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Merchant Vessel 


A SAILOR-BOY'S VOYAGES 


TO SEE THE IVOR ED 


i/ 


By CHAS. NOR D HOFF 

Author of Man-0 f- IVar Life f '' Whalhig and FishhtgT etc.y etc. 


OCT 20 1ga4 

7/ io^ (p. 


0 . 


n 


n/ ‘ 








New York 

Dodd, Mead & 

Publishers 

\ 



^ 0 


Copyright, 1884, 


DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 


V 


ORIGINAL PREFACE. 


I N the present volume, it has been the aim of the writer 
to draw an intelligible picture of the merchant seaman’s 
life. Were the merchant service such as youth are most apt 
to imagine it, it would undoubtedly have great charms for 
one of an adventurous turn of mind. Could the merchant 
sailor always have his choice of voyages — could he obtain a sit- 
uation when he wished, and to go whither it pleased him — 
were he not continually at the mercy of tyrannical officers and 
grasping shoresmen — and finally, but not by any means of least 
importance, were his average income sufficient to meet even 
his most moderate wants, such a life, with all its hardships, 
would form a not unpleasing experience. But the direct re- 
verse is the fact. His chief anxiety when he is discharged 
from one ship is to engage himself on board another. In most 
cases he is forced to accept the first chance that offers. He 
has no control at all over his own movements, but is the 
merest creature of chance. He may plan out for himself an 

easy and pleasant round of voyages, but it is impossible to 
put his plans into execution. 

The writer has not hesitated to show the shadows as 
well as the lights of this phase of sea-life. And, truly, these 
shadows are not few. 



vnii 


ORIGINAL PREFACE. 


Of the “ yarns” recounted in this volume, it may be well to 
say, that they are told as nearly as possible in the language of 
the original relators, and that there is no doubt whatever in 
the mind of the writer of their entire truth. He has p^iven 
them place here, not only because yarning is one of the chief 
amusements of sailors during their leisure hours, but from the 
fact that they present phases of sea-life which happily did not 
fall to his experience. 


I 


PREFACE TO NEW EDITION. 


L ast year Messrs. Dodd, Mead & Co. amazed, and I 
must say alarmed, me by insisting on republishing, in a 
very pretty form, an old book of mine, written in 1854, and 
published in 1855 — “Man-of-War Life: A Boy’s Experiences in 
the United States Navy.” This year they wish to add to that 
volume a second, in which, about the same time, and when I 
was still fresh from the sea, I recounted my own life in various 
merchant ships under several flags. 

As I glance over the pages of the book, which I have not 
looked at in many years, I see that it has at least one point 
of interest — it recounts adventures and a mode of life scarcely 
to be found now anywhere. There are, to be sure, still sailing 
ships; and no doubt tbe work and discipline in these ships are 
much the same that they were when I sailed, thirty-five years 
ago. But the main business of the sea is now done by steam- 
ships. Some out-of-the-way corners of the world, which it was 
my good fortune and my delight to visit, are now “ settled and 
civilized;” and while there are still many tolerably remote spots, 
the stove-pipe hat is now found everywhere, and the area 
of romance and adventure is greatly limited. I will not say that 
the world has become commonplace, for that is not true. But ., 

* I I k; 

I do think some of the bloom has been rubbed off the peach. 


X 


PREFACE TO NEW EDITION. 


This l)oc)k contains not only the record of my own ex- 
periences in the merchant service, but also here and there a 
forecastle yarn spun by an old shipmate. I dare say they 
are all true; for, as a saying of the sea goes, that's what they 
said ; and you wouldn't suppose a lot of sailor men would lie 
about such a matter as that T 

When I was a boy at sea the Spanish pillar dollar was still 
the coin of most universal currency, and the Spanish language 
was that most certain to be understood in the remotest spots. 
The American flag was to be found literally on every sea, and 
the American ship was the tautest, the best fitted, the best 
sailer, and made the most successful voyages. The American 
shipmaster was by far the most intelligent of his class, as he 
probably still is ; but he had also the air, as he had the habit, 
of success ; and he delighted in nothing so much as in a 
“ trading voyage," in which he was not only master, but super- 
cargo, and with a “roving commission" went out to Africa, or 
the Indian Ocean, or the “ West Coast," to barter American 
goods and Yankee notions for the produce of the country. 
Such a captain had not only seamanship, but brains and a 
commercial education. He, and his crew also, looked down 
upon the “lime-juicers,'’ as they called English ships and sailors, 
as rather a stupid and semi-brutal lot. They laughed at the 
“ parleyvoos," or Frenchmen, as better shoemakers than sailors. 
They despised the “ Dagoes,'’ or Spaniards, as fellows who 
always lost in the race. 

In those days we Yankees counted ourselwes the best men 
that sailed the seas. 


PREFACE TO NEW EDITION. 


XI 




Well, all that has changed. The pillar dollar and the Span- 
ish as the universal language went out long ago. But it is not 
so long since we abandoned the sea. Perhaps some day we 
shall take possession again. I should be glad to see the day. 

The book is here reprinted without change. I dare say I 
could write a better book now, but it would not be the same — 
it would not have the merit this one has, of being a true 
picture of the life here described. The publishers have, with 
great liberality, undertaken to add many illustrations, which I 
hope will lend interest to the text. 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Jack Ashore — Victimized by the Land-Sharks — Off for Boston — A 
Pleasure Trip — Boston — Sailors’ Home — Ships and Shipping 
CJ ffices^ •• •«•••• ••»•! 

CHAPTER II. 

Sail for New Orleans — Going to Sea with a Drunken Crew — A Mer- 
chantman’s Forecastle — Man the Windlass” — Choosing Watches — 
Some Points of Difference between the Merchant Service and the 
Navy, with a Short Digression into the Philosophy of Sailorcraft, lo 

CHAPTER III’ 

Watch-and-Watch — Reefing Topsails — Catching a Sucker — The Berry’s 
Keys, and the Deputy U. S. Consul Thereof — Turtle Eggs — Mobile 
Bay — Our Crew Leave, . . . . . . . . -19 

CHAPTER IV. 

Taking in Cargo — Screwing Cotton — The Gangs and their Chants — 

Departure for Liverpool — Discipline on Board, . . ^34 

CHAPTER V. 

Old Anton’s Yarn, A Cruise in a Slaver, ...... 45 


XIV 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER VI. 

A Gale off Cape Clear — Nearly Ashore — Liverpool — What a Sailor Sees 
o Iltj* • • • • . • . . • • • . 


CHAPTER VII. 

Departure from Liverpool — Passengers — Their Mode of Life on Board 
Ship — Philadelphia — Ship for London — Seamen’s Protection, . 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Sail for London — The Vessel — A Winter Passage across the Atlantic — Its 
Hardships — The English Channel, ....... 

CHAPTER IX. 

Arrival in London — The Docks — Sailors — The California Ship — Singular 
Instance of Affection in a Serpent — What Sailors See of London — 
Sail for Boston, ........... 


CHAPTER X. 

Ship for Calcutta — My New Ship — Preparations for an India Voyage — 
Sail from Boston — Points of Difference between Indiamen and other 
Ships — Discipline — Work — Our Crew — A Character, 

CHAPTER XI. 

A Yarn of Opium Smuggling — The Vessel — The Captain — Meet Man- 
darin Boats — The Fight — The Cook’s Scalding Water — The Breeze 
Springs up — The Repulse, ......... 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Merchant Seaman’s Sunday — Growling George and I become Chums 
— Catching Fish — Porpoise Meat — A Storm off the Cape — The Sand- 
Heads — The Hoogly — George and I determine to leave the Ship — 
The Pilots — Calcutta, .......... 


PAGE 

62 


74 


83 


1 1 1 


133 


146 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


N 


CHAPTER XIII. 

PAGE 

Leave the Akbar — An English Vessel — Sail for Madras — Some of the 
Peculiarities of British Ships — Arrive at Madras — The Port — Manner 
of Taking in Cargo — How I Got into the Sailmaker's Gang— The Surf- 
Boats — A Storm and its Consequences, . . . . . .181 


T&- 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Sail for Sydney — Sydney Coves, or Colonials — Their Peculiarities — Jim’s 

Yarn — Life among the Savages of New Guinea, .... 202 


CHAPTER XV. 

Sydney — Sailors' Amusements — Tired of the Shore — Looking for a Voy- 
age — Ship — The Brig Ocean — Her Crew — Description of the Vessel — 
Nearly a Quarrel, ........... 224 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A Yarn of Sandal-Wood Hunting — Arrival at Lombok — Tlie Natives — 
Chinese Residents — Manner of Life of the People — Take in Cargo — 

The Country-Wallah — Her Crew, ....... 232 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Leave Lombok — The Monkey — The Parrot — A Long Calm — George 
^ Grumbles — Cattle-tending in New South Wales — Whampoa — Dis- 
charge Cargo — Paid off — Visit Canton, . . . . . . 253 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Ship in a Country-Wallah — Sail for Port Louis — Leave-taking — The Las- 
car Crew — Manner of Treating Them — Long Calm — Superstitions of 
the Lascars — -Their Desire to Revolt — Arriv^al at Port Louis, . -277 


CONTENTS. 


:;vi 


CHAPTER XIX. 

PAGE 

Difficulty of Getting a Ship — Go on Board an American Vessel — Off for 
Rio — A Yarn from a Company Sailor — Rio de Janeiro Harbor — For 
Boston — Cold \Yeather, ........ . 296 

CHAPTER XX. 

Hard Times for Sailors — Anxiety to Escape the Winter — Boston to Ban= 
gor — Sail for Demarara — A Down-East Bark — Her Captain and 
Mate — A Family Arrangement — Arrival at Demarara — Discharge 
Cargo — Sail for Buen Ayre, ......... 313 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Dragon’s Mouth — Buen Ayre — Taking in Salt — The Salt Pans — 
Beauty of the Island and the Climate — Misery of the Laborers — Off 
for New Orleans — Captain Attempts to Starve the Crew — Tedious 
Passage — Arrival at New Orleans — A Sailor s Lawsuit — Sail for 
New York — Conclusion, 337 



CHAPTER I. 

Jack ashore — Victimized by the land sharks — Off for Boston — A pleasure trip — Boston — 
Sailors Home — Ships and shipping offices, 

T he tailors, boarding-house keepers, and itinerant venders 
of jewelry, in port, have a busy time during the week in 
which a man-of-war’s crew is discharged and paid off. Jack can- 
not see to the end of a hundred dollars, and therefore pays roy- 
ally for everything he wants, and very many things he don’t 
want, never stooping so low as to bargain with a tradesman — and 
getting cheated on all hands, of course, by the land sharks. 
Pinchbeck watches, and plated jewelry, and ill-fitting shore 
chothes, soon transform the neat, trim man-of-war’s-man, looking 
as though he had just stepped out of a bandbox, into an awk- 
ward, ungainly fellow as one would be likelv to meet with in a 
day’s walk. 

But never mind ; the clothes may not fit, but they cost the 
money — the watch may be gilt, but its price was a golden one 
— and “ what’s the odds, so long as you’re happy,” said a jolly top- 
mate, as he introduced himself to my notice, in a suit of clothes 
big enough for the largest man in all Ohio, a “ long-faced 
hat,” a watch in each vest-pocket, rings on every finger, inchid- 
mg the thumbs, and a breastpin almost large enough for a din- 


2 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


ner-plate. “You know,” said he, with the air of one having 
some experience in such matters, “ one must be in the fashion. 
Now nobody would take me for an old salt ; they won’t say, 
‘ Go away, sailor, you smell of tar. 

I thought perhaps they wouldn’t, but respectfully declined 
investing in a similar manner, to Jack’s evident disgust. Not 
all, however, of our crew sported their two watches, or dressed 
in style. I am sorry to say that not a few commenced a spree 
on the first day ashore, from which they only waked up to find 
themselves outward bound, and the landlord prepared to ship 
them, and pocket no inconsiderable share of their advance money. 
There were yet others, and these were principally the old mer' 
chant sailors, who were off, as soon as they received their pay, 
to one of the northern seaports, with the intention of shipping 
for some foreign port, Liverpool, London, Havre, or “up the 
straits,” as the Mediterranean is called, where, being old cruising 
grounds to them, they thought to have their spree out to greater 
advantage than in the United States. 

I fear but few of the many who had talked so loudly of 
going home had the strength of purpose to carry their resolution 
into effect. Many were doubtless persuaded off by their ship- 
mates, and went “ one more voyage” — which is like the toper’s 
“one more glass,” something that upsets all plans for reform. 
Others intended only to take a little preliminary spree, but 
spent too large a proportion of their savings in that, and then 
abandoned all idea of seeing home till after another good 
voyage. 

As for myself, it had been determined that the company 


WE CHARTER A SCHOONER. 


o 

which I had joined should go to Boston, from whence I intended 
to make my first trip in a merchant vessel. Our party con- 
sisted of five : two seamen, old sea-dogs, one of them a captain 

* 

of the mizzentop, two ordinary seamen, and myself, a boy. The 
three last mentioned were steady temperance lads, but the old 
tars were confirmed topers, who were conscious that they could 
not resist the temptation to spreeing, and had made us young- 
sters promise, while yet on board ship, that we would see to 
them. 

Fearing the utter impossibility of keeping straight all the 
way from Norfolk to Boston, the luminous idea struck Harry 
Hill, the captain of the top, to charter the cabin of a little 
coasting schooner, about to proceed to Boston. 

“And then,” said he, “if old Tommy Martin and I get on 
our beam-ends, you boys can put us into our berths, and there 
will be no bloody land sharks to pick our pockets.” 

This proposition was accordingly carried into effect. We 
paid fifty dollars for the use of the cabin, the captain to “ eat 
us,” he agreeing, also, to start away the same day we were paid 
off, which clause of the contract I insisted on, fearing, were we 
detained any time in Norfolk, that my topmates would get on 
an ■ interminable spree. I had determined on carrying them so- 
berly to the Sailors’ Home, in Boston, and there, placing them 
under good influences, try to make them lay aside a portion of 
their earnings. 

Accordingly, we paid our board bill — three days, at the rate 
of two- dollars and a‘ half per day, for sleeping in a garret, 
furnishing our own bedding, and eating an occasional meal in 


4 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


the house — but homeward-bound sailors don’t dispute bills — and 
took ourselv^es and baggage down . to the schooner. On getting- 
on board, I found in the cabin lockers sundry jugs, labelled 
“ brandy,” “ rum,” and “ wine,” which our two old tars had smug- 
gled off on the day before, unknown to the sober portion of 
the party. The wine, Harry Hill said he had gotten expressly 
for us, as such a glorious time as we might now have should 
not be entirely thrown away. Procuring some oysters, on our 
way down the bay, we were soon outside, making good head- 
way toward Boston. 

Our two old topmates saw but little of the daylight while 
the liquor lasted, but as a good deal of it leaked out, they had 
abundant time to get sober before we arrived in port. For my- 
self, being my first trip on so small a vessel, I enjoyed myself 
very much. By the time we reached Boston I had learned to 
steer, which necessary accomplishment no one has a chance of 
acquiring on board a man-of-war, where only the most ex-^ 
perienced of the seamen are permitted to take the wheel. 

I 

Arrived at the wharf in Boston, we took a coach (Harry 
Hill insisting upon going on deck with the driver, having had a 
surfeit of the cabin coming from Norfolk), and drov^e up to the 
Sailors’ Home, in Purchase Street, in a style calculated to let 
folks know that we were homeward-bounders. Sailors’ homes,, 
almost everybody knows, have been established in nearly every 
large seaport in the Union, for the purpose of providing sea- 
men, while on shore, with boarding-houses conducted on hon- 
est principles, and mostly by religious people, and where they 
will be removed as far as may be from the temptations of the 


A SAILOH'S HOME. 


5 


land. That in Purchase Street, Boston, always enjoyed a high rep- 
utation, being a very large and commodiously arranged building, 
where everything was quiet and scrupulously neat, and where no 
efforts were spared by the kind-hearted “landlord,” Mr. Chaney, 
and his excellent lady, to make the tars comfortable, and to aid 
them in their efforts at keeping on the right track. 

Entering our names, and the name of our last ship, on 
the register, we were shown to nice airy rooms, where matters 
looked more like comfort than anything I had seen for the 
last three years. The regulations of the house were suspended 
• in each room, and from these I gathered, among other mat- 
ters, that there was in the building a reading-room and a 
smoking-room, for the use of all the boarders, that prayers 
were held in the former apartment every morning, before 
breakfast, which all in the house were invited to attend, and 
that on Sabbath divine service was held in a chapel opposite 
the Home. 

That night I enjoyed a glorious rest. For three long 

years a narrow hammock, hung on a crowded deck, had been 
my only sleeping-place — aside from a still harder deck plank — 
and to find myself once more in a good bed, with nice 
clean sheets and pillows, and surrounded by all the comforts 
of home — comforts, by the way, which we don’t know how to 
value till we are obliged to do without them — was a most 
unmistakable pleasure. I had taken Harry Hill as my 
room-mate. 

“Now, my boy,” said he, as he “turned in,’’ “there will 
be no calling of all hands to-morrow, no turning out in the 


6 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


cold to scrub decks, no getting down on your marrovv-bones„ 
with holy-stones and sand. So you can take just as much 
comfort as you please. I’m only afraid I’ll sleep so sound 

I shan’t enjoy it at all — so if you wake up along in the 

mid-watch, give me a call, that I may freshen my reekoning.” 

But there was no mid-wateh in my dreams that night. 

The loud ringing of a bell called us down to prayers, in 

the morning. I found a very good attendance in the reading- 

room. It was the first time I had attended family worship 

since leaving home, and strange feelings crept over me as I 
listened to the Word being read and the prayer offered. And 
as the gray-haired minister who conducted the worship 

asked God’s blessing on those there assembled, and on their 
friends, wherever they might be, my heart was full, at the 
thought of the loved ones at home, perhaps then, also, offer- 
ing up their morning service to the Lord. 

But could I go home.? What had I to tell, what had 

I to show, after my long absence? No! I was deter- 
mined to see a little more of the world before I showed my 

face there. 

After breakfast our party sallied out to take a look about 
the wharves, and pick out a ship, as none of us intended to 

stay ashore above a week or two. The spring-time is always- 
a busy season with shipping, and we found at the wharves 
ships, barks, brigs, and schooners, loading for many different 

parts of the world. After rambling around the wharves awhile,, 

we entered a shipping office. It is to these places that the 

owners and masters of vessels, when in want of a crew, take 


THE SHIPPING OFFICE. 


/ 

their “ articles,” the obligations which each one on board must 
sign, before sailing, and which contain an abstract of the gen- 
eral laws of the merchant-marine, and whatever particular 
specifications are deemed necessary for the voyage the ship is 
to perform. These articles are spread out on desks, about the 
office, that seamen may examine them and pick themselves 
out a voyage. 

Ships were plenty at this time, and we entered an office 
where two East Indiamen, a China ship, a Baltic ship, and a 
vessel going round Cape Horn had their articles exposed — 
besides several small craft going to different parts of the West 
Indies, and a bark bound to a southern port, and thence to 
“ some port or ports in Europe, at the discretion of the 
captain.” 

“ Here you are, now,” said one of my old friends ; “ you 
want to see somewhat of the world; here you have your pick, 
and can take a trip almost anywhere you want to.” 

As we stood there, two tars came in. They had evidently 
been down to look at some of the vessels. 

“Well, Jack,” said one, “which shall it be, Russia or 
China 

“ What do you say to Bombay, Tom T asked the other. 

“Well, I’m agreed.” 

And they signed the articles of a vessel bound to 
“ Bombay, and such other ports in the East Indies or China 
as the captain may determine, the voyage not to exceed two 
years.” 

It seemed strange to me to see men disposing so care- 


8 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


lessly of their future for the next year or two ; choosing at 
hap-hazard between the frosts of the Baltic Sea and burn- 

ing sun of the Indies ; the hardships of a Russian voyage and 
the sickness incident to a trip to China. But I soon found 

this was a mere matter of habit, and before I was much 
older, learned, myself, to start to the uttermost ends of the 
earth at five minutes’ notice, and perhaps merely to oblige an 
old shipmate, or even from a less reasonable caprice. 

I desired much to go to the East Indies, but thought 
best to make a short European voyage first, in order to be 
inducted regularly into the life, and ways, and duties of a 
merchant vessel, before going on a long trip in a fancy 

Indiaman. So I one day shipped myself in a bark going to 
New Orleans, thence to Liverpool or Havre. The rest of our 
party of five all sailed before me. Two went to Russia, one 
to Buenos Ayres, and the other to Cura^oa, in the West Indies. 
When they were all gone I felt really lonesome ; but as the 

day drew near on which I too was to leave, to embark in a line 
of duty entirely new to me, and in which I knew not what 
success I should have, I must confess my heart sank within me. 

However, the hour came at last. The shipping agent 

sends word to the places of residence of the various members of 
the crew, of the precise day and hour of sailing, which is gen- 
erally determined on some days beforehand. The crew of a 
merchant vessel do not go on board until just as the ship is 
about to cast off from the wharf And on returning home, 
they barely make fast the ship, and then leave her. As crews 
are picked up at hap-hazard, the different individuals are, in 


SHIPPED. 


9 


general, strangers to each other, and it is some days before 
all hands become acquainted and sociable. If now, in addition 
to being strangers, one half of them are drunk on their arrival 
in the forecastle, and consequently unfit for duty, and ready 
for a quarrel with the officers (and this was precisely the 
case on this occasion), it need not to be said that going out to 
sea, under such circumstances, is not the most pleasant inci- 
dent in one’s life. 



CHAPTER II. 

Sail for New Orleans — Going to sea with a drunken crew — A merchantman s 
forecastle — ^^Man the windlass'' — Choosing watches — So7ne points of difference 
between the merchant service and the navy^ with a short digression into the 
philosophy of sailor craft, 

O UR crew numbered ten before the mast, of whom two, my- j 

self and another, were boys, the rest being able seamen. We j 

came on board at nine a.m., but early as it was, six of the || 

men, taking time by the foi'elock, were already tipsy, and, of j| 

eourse, as cross as bears. They were brought on board by the 1 
boarding-house keepers, and stowed away in the forecastle, that i 

they might, by means of a nap, recover their sober senses. | 

Meantime four of us cast off the lines, loosed the sails, and || 

sheeting home the foretopsail, dropped down the harbor a little || 

way, and then came to anchor, the captain determining to wait It 

till the morrow, and go to sea with a sober crew. 

Our forecastle was a dirty little hole, into which scarcely a j 

glimmer of daylight could penetrate. Being just in the bow of ' 

(• 

the vessel, its shape was triangular ; the space clear of the berths 
being about six feet in length by five wide at the base, divided 
in the middle by a large stanchion, which formed, on deck, the - 

pall-bit of the windlass. Into this little space, ten of us, drunk j 


PROCEEDING TO SEA. 


I I 

and sober together, were crowded, when evening set in, it being- 
yet too cold to stay out on deck. 

After coming to an anchor, the first labor was to clear up 
this place, which was to be our residence for some time. The 
forecastle, being untenanted in harbor, is generally used by the 
mates or ship-keepers as a place of deposit for old rigging, and 
we found our bunks full of all manner of odds and ends of 
rigging. Throwing this stuff upon deck, we arranged our bed- 
ding, lashed and cleated our chests, to prevent their fetching 
away, and then, having taken supper, turned in, to keep warm. 
I slept but little all night, feeling altogether out of place among 
a lot of drunken men, who were turning uneasily in their bunks, 
cursing and swearing, as they shivered in the cold. 

Morning dawned at last, and with the earliest ray of light 
the second mate rapped overhead with a hand-spike, calling all 
hands to up anchor. How different, thought I, from the shrill 
pipes of the ' boatswain and his mates, which I had been so long 
accustomed to. We turned out and sat on our chests, waiting 
for the call to “ man the windlass.” Several of the drunkards of 
the previous day were grumbling about sore heads, and ransacked 
the forecastle through for some liquor. One at last bethought 
him^to look into his chest, and took thence a large jug, at which 
all except myself took a long pull. It was passed to me too, 
but my refusal to participate seemed, nevertheless, to please every 
one. 

Presently, “Man the windlass, there,” from the mate, called 
us on deck. 

“Go aloft two hands, and loose the topsails and topgallant- 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


a 2 

sails,” sung out the captain, as we mustered on the topgallant 
forecastle. I jumped aloft at the fore, let fall the topsail, too- 
gallantsail, and foresail, and overhauled the rigaing, there being 
but little wind. We then hove short on the anchor, sheeted 
home the foretopsail — a few heaves, and — “The anchor’s away, 
sir,” sung out the mate. 

“ H eave him up, and come this way two hands — brace up 
the foreyard.” 

To me, who had been accustomed to seeing two or three 
hundred men pulling on a brace or halyards, it seemed very 
strange to see two men called to brace up a yard, or to see five 
•or six men run up a topsail halyards, to a cheery yo heave yoh, 
one man running up aloft to the fly block, and then riding down 

f 

■on the fail. On board a vessel of war no singing out at ropes 
is allowed, the call of the boatswain’s mate giving the signal, to 
which all pull together. The merchant sailor, on the contrary, 
delights in making a noise when pulling on ropes, and getting 
up anchor or hoisting topsails, with a good crew, is always en- 
livened ' by various cheering songs, which serve the purpose of 

keeping all hands in good humor and lightening the work. 

» 

Our crew were yet too much stupefied with hard drinking to be 
able to raise a song, and the anchor was catted and the topsails 
sheeted home, with nothing livelier than the never-failing “yoho, 
pull, boys.” We stood out past Boston Ligbt-House, with a light 
but fair breeze, and were soon in the open Bay, with the high- 
land of Cape Cod ahead. The anchors were got on the bows, 
■a portion of the chain cable run down into the chain-locker, the 
■decks swept, and then “ get your breakfasts.” 


OUR CREW. 



Each one took his pot to the “galley,” getting it filled 
with coffee (sweetened with molasses), while I, being the boy, took 
the meat and the lobscouse down into the forecastle, and got 
the bread-barge supplied with bread. Lobscouse is the sea name 
for a species of hash or stew, made of potatoes, bread, onions, and 
chopped salt beef. It is a savory mess for hungry tars, and 
forms a standard dish for breakfast on board all good ships. 
The scouse, the beef, and bread, being duly arranged on the 
forecastle deck, each one helped himself to what he pleased,, 
sitting on his chest, with the pot of coffee and his tin pan be- 
side him. The old topers took a final swig at their jug, and 
it being emptied, declared it a “ dead marine,” and tossed it into 
the chain-locker. Then breakfast began, amid a little cheerful 
conversation, every one appearing glad at the thought that we 
were fairly underweigh. Presently “ one bell ” was struck, and 
the man at the wheel was relieved, to get his breakfast. At two 
bells we were again “ turned to,” and got to work to put on 
chafing gear, lash water-casks, and get all fast about decks, 
ready for sea. In this duty the day was spent, and by evening 
Cape Cod Light was well astern. 

After supper, all hands were called aft, and the mates 

choose watches for the voyage. All hands are ranged along 
> 

the quarter-deck, and the mate and second mate choose alter- 
nately such men as they like best. It is generally thought 
preferable to be in the mate’s watch, as the second mate’s is 
also the captain’s, and has, therefore, two heads, and often a 
consequent double allowance of work. Watches are. not chosen 
until the close of the first day out, in order that the qualifications 


14 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


of different individuals of the crew may be tested. Each mate 
has thus a chance to settle in his mind what men he fancies, 
while the men have likewise an opportunity of judging as to the 
relative qualifications of the mates. I had taken a fancy to the 
chief mate, who was a smart, lively Yankee, and had done my 
best all day, in order to attract his favorable notice, with the 
object of being chosen by him. The seamen were of course 
picked first. When only an ordinary seaman and myself were 
left to choose from, the mates conferred together, and finally, to 
my great satisfaction, the mate said : 

“ Here, my lad, come over to my side — ” 

“ Can vou steer ?” he asked me. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“What’s your name.^” 

“ Charles, sir.” 

“ Well, Charles, you may go and take the wheel till eight 
•bells, as we have the first eight hours in'.' 

I had said that I could steer, but I now took the helm : 

J 

with no little misgiving. • I had done my best, while on board i 
the schooner, from Norfolk to Boston, to make myself familiar j 
with the mystery of guiding a vessel on her course, but the | 

I 

little experience gained there did not suffice to give me any j 
degree of expertness in the art. Fortunately for me the breeze 

1 

was light and steady, and the ship steered well, and so I steered 
my first trick without being found fault with. 

With a freshening breeze, by twelve o’clock the Highland 
light was out of sight, and the next morning we were fairly 
■out at sea. and the reo'ular routine of sea-life' beiran. Our crew I 


THE MERCHANT SERVICE. 


15 


had by this time all gotten sober, and with clearer heads there 
■came merrier faces, the mutinous and loafing wretch of the day 
before being now transformed into a smart, lively, and willing 
tar, able and ready for any .duty — to “hand, reef, or steer, or 
heave the lead.” Taking altogether, we found ourselves to be 
about as good a crew — liquor aside — as could be gotten to- 
gether, for a vessel like ours. And when we got acquainted, got 
to know each one’s calibre and capacities, we jogged along very 
happily together. 

I found some very great differences between life “ in the 
Service,” and in a merchant vessel. In the first place, our work 
here was infinitely harder. With only five men in a watch, 
each individual must put out his whole strength, in tightening 
a brace, swigging home a sheet, or pulling up a halyard. As a 
■consequence of this, by the time we were fairly out of the Bay, 
.my hands were full of blisters and cracks, a thing which had 
not probably happened to any one on board a naval vessel 
once in three years. And the hard straining at ropes, and often 
at the wheel, when the wind blew fresh, made me for a while 
sore all over, as though I had been beaten with a stick. 

Next, there is very great difference between the treatment 
in the navy and that in the merchant service. The captain 
of a man-of-war has a power almost of life and death over the 
sailors under his command. An act of overt disobedience would 
be a piece of unheard-of insanity ; not even a muttered growl, or 
an angry look is tolerated. Mutiny, that dread word to the 
man-of-war’s-man, is supposed to lurk under all such expressions 
of dislike. The cat is ever in the foreground, a warning to all. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



“ You may think what you please, so lortg as you do7tt 
think aloud,” this is about the amount of the Blue Jacket’s 
liberty of speech — and liberty of action, he has none. He eats, 

drinks, sleeps, and works, only at the beck and nod of his supe- 

rior. To be sure, this takes away from him all sense of respon- 
sibility. Others do his thinking; a plan of his life, with specifi- 
cations annexed is ever hanging above the desk of the captain’s 
clerk. He has not to provide for the morrow — and even if it 

is not at all provided for, the responsibility is not with him. 

Here is taught, to its fullest perfection, that great secret of 
all disciplined organizations, obey orders — “ obey orders, if you 
break owners,” as Jack has significantly rendered it. Instant,, 
unhesitating, unthinking obedience to the order that is given 
— this is the one great rule, which is impressed upon the mind 

of the sailor, until it becomes to him a second nature, and he 

rushes carelessly but consciously, in the face of death, or on to 
certain destruction, at the word of his commanding officer, leav- 
ing all responsibility of the result with him. 

“Jump!” shouted a captain to a cabin-boy who, in a fit 
of foolish bravado, had crawled out to the end of the mainroyal 
yard, and now clung there, between sky and water, unable to 
get in, afraid to move for fear of falling. “Jump! you scoun- 
drel, instantly!” and the boy unhesitatingly leaped from the 
dizzy height into the blue wave beneath — and was saved. A 
landsman would have argued the point — or at least have taken 
time to turn over in his mind the expediency of obeying the 
order, and he would have lost his hold, and been dashed tO' 
pieces on deck. 


DISCIPLINE. 


17 


Now it is true, and this little story exemplifies it, that this 
kind of discipline is necessary on board ship, and particularly on 
board a naval vessel, where a great number of bodies are placed 
under command of one mind — but what kind of men does it 
make of these bodies ? Plainly, it takes away all the more valu- 
able part of the individual, his mind ; or rather, it accustoms him 
to lay it aside as useless, and depend upon another for that 
which God has given to all. It is this, to a great extent, which 
makes the man-of-war s-man unfit for any other phase of life 
than that to which he has been bred. And it is this, too, which 
makes him so very generally di.ssolute when on shore, and almost 
entirely incapacitates him for taking care of himself. His car of 
life requires a vigilant conductor, to keep it from running off the 
track. 

But in the merchant service this point of discipline, although 
perfectly well understood, and enforced, in emergencies, where 
only it is necessary, does not enter into the daily life. The sea- 
man there, assumes interests, and feels consequent responsibilities, 
to which Blue Jacket is a stranger. He keeps a sharp look-out 
to see all secure aloft — because, should anything give way, it 
would occasion him an unwelcome addition to labors already 
sufficiently heavy. The work being divided among but few 
hands, each, one feels interested in devising means to make it as 
light as possible. In short, the safety and the comfort of all 
depend upon the thoughtfulness of each. In this respect the 
merchant service is infinitely preferable to the Navy as a school 
for training. And, as a consequence, the merchant sailor is valued, 
while the veteran man-of-war’s-man is almost despised. 


i8 


I'HE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


Begging the reader to have patience with this rather prosy 
digression into the philosophy of sailorcraft, we will go on. 
There is no one thing in which the merchant seaman is so far 
above Uncle Sam’s man than in this, that he does his duty with- 
out the fear of punishment before his eyes. No one who has 
not experienced both states can imagine the degradation of the 
one or the honest elevation of the other. Hard and disagree- 
able his work is, without doubt, but he knows his duty and his 
rights, and says, mentally, to his superior, “ Thus far and no farther 
can you go with me.” And among every good crew there exists 
an esprit de corps, which makes them do their duty willingly, 
but present a front as of one man to the officer who attempts 
to exact more. 

It must not be imagined, however, from this, that the life 
of a merchant sailor, aside from its hardships, is necessarily a 
pleasant one. The captain and mates have always at their com- 
mand an infinity of means of annoyance, which they may practise 
without transgressing any law. There are various little privileges 
of which a crew may be deprived, numberless little unnecessary 
jobs, which may be given them to do, which will put additional 
burdens on a life already full enough of hardships. • 



CHAPTER III. 


Wakh-and-watch — Reefing topsails — Catching a sucker — The Berry s Keys, and the 
Deputy U. S. Consul thereof- — Turtle eggs — Mobile Bay — Our crew leave. 


O N board a good ship — and the one I was now in was 

to be reckoned in most things among that number — 
the crew have watch-and-watch — that is to say, the regular alter- 
nation of watches continues during the entire twenty-four hours, 
day as well as night. On board many vessels only the fore- 

noon watch below is granted, all hands being kept up in the 
afternoon, in order to get more work done. But I have always 
found that a watch-and-watch crew would do more, and do it 
with a heartier • good-will, than one that was kept up. 

The starboard watch, being the second mate’s, having had 
eight hours on deck the preceding night, had the forenoon 

watch below, and all turned in and slept ' till seven bells, 
when they were called up and got their dinners, prepared to 

relieve us at twelve. The afternoon watch being ours, was 
spent in arranging our chests in the forecastle, and mending 
or reading. 

On board a merchant vessel, unlike a naval vessel, the 
j', watch on deck is always kept busy. In the first part of a 

voyage there is generally a sufficiency of work which it is 

\ 


b 

t 

i 


■ 


1 | 


■ s 


1 


,1 











20 


THE MERCHANT ■ VESSEL. 


actually necessary to have done, but in the latter part of a 
long voyage it is often difficult to find work, and in such 
cases various unnecessary jobs are resorted to, such as plaiting 
sinnet for gaskets, twisting spun yarn, making sword mats, etc. 
Anything to keep the hands busy — “ keep them at work to 
keep mischief out of their heads,” as the saying is at sea. 

We sailed on with a fair breeze, until we had crossed the Gulf, 
and were about abreast of Charleston, when a heavy head-wind from 
the south-east forced us to reef down. The vessel having ballast 
only in her hold, and none too much of that, was inclined to be 
crank, and we could not therefore carry on sail, or make much way 
against a head-wind. We reefed, of course, one topsail at a time, 
and everything was done to make the work go as easily as possible. 
The yard is laid just so as to keep the topsail continually lifting — 
that is, fluttering m the wind, neither full nor aback. And it is the 
special duty of the helmsman, for the time being, to keep the sail in 
precisely that condition. Reeftackles being hauled out and bunt- 
lines tightened, all hands go aloft, the first one up going out to the 
lee earing — the weather earing being the second mate’s place — and 
the balance stretching out along the yard, the greater number, of 
course, to windward. “ Light up the sail, light up to windward,” is 
now shouted, and catching hold of the reef points, each one drags 
the slack sail in the required direction. Presently the second mate 
has his earing or corner secured, and “ haul out to leeward,” is the 
cry. Those at the leeside haul out until the reef-band is tightly 
stretched along the yard, when “ knot away” is shouted, and the 
points are fastened tightly around the yard. Reefing is lively work 
— everything is done with a rush, and there is generally a race down 


LEVEE OF A SOUTHERN CITY, 


21 





I 


\ 




( 

\ 






REEFING TOPSAILS. 


23 


the rigging, some sliding down backstays, others catching on the 
halyards, and adding their weight to the pull of those on deck, who 
are hoistinsf the reefed sail. 

o 

We were thirty-five days from Boston to Mobile. Our original 
destination was New Orleans, but the owners had changed their 
minds after the crew was shipped, and concluded to send the vessel 
to Mobile Bay. This leaked out before we were many days at sea, 
and the articles of agreement being thus broken, our crew, with the 
waywardness of true sailors, at once determined to avail themselves 
of the privilege thereby afforded them, of leaving the vessel on her 
arrival in port. The sailor is essentially a bird of passage. His is a 
W'andering, vagabond existence, and so strong is his distaste for any- 
thing resembling a steady pursuit, that it is a very rare thing to find 
a man making two voyages in one ship. No matter how unexcep- 
tionable the vessel, or how kindly he has been treated, there is no 
persuading him to stay, 

“ No, we had better not stay,” once said a crew, in my hearing, 
whom a captain was persuading to go with him again. 

‘‘ But why not you have a first-rate ship, and you were never 
better treated anywhere.” 

'‘That’s all true, sir,” said an old salt, with a little embarrass- 
ment, giving his trousers a hitch at the same time, “ but then, you 
know, if we go with you another voyage, we’d be getting too well 
acquainted.” 

And this, although no reason at all, seemingly met the ideas of 
every individual of the crew. Whatever may be the true principle 
involved, certain it is, that I never knew a man really worth having 
that would go in the same vessel two voyages together. 


24 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


The twentieth day out found us on the Bahama Banks, be- 
calmed and anchored in eight fathoms water, but out of sight of any 
land. We had beaten with a stiff breeze past the Hole-in-the-wall, 
on Abaco, a place widely known in days, or rather nights, past, 
as the scene of many wrecks, vessels being led astray here by ialse 
lights, displayed by the wreckers who frequent these waters and earn 
their bread by the misfortunes of their fellow-men. Abaco has a 
large revolving light, visible at from ten to fifteen miles’ distance, 
from a ship’s deck, which is of great benefit to vessels passing in or 
out of the Gulf of Mexico, who take this channel. It is said that 
the wreckers, knowing that vessels make a practice of steering safely 
around the land, by it, at night, used to extinguish it on stormy 
nights, and exhibit a false light at some distance farther up the coast, 
so situating it, that captains using it as a guide would not fail to find 
themselves upon a leeshore, but only when too late to save their 
vessels. To counterfeit the revolutions of the light, which is only 
visible for fifteen seconds in every minute, it is said that they fastened 
a large, bright light to the tail of a horse, and then drove the ani- 
mal around in a large circle, making a revolution once a minute, 
when, of course, his body would conceal the light for a large portion 
of the time, producing, at a distance, the precise effect of a revolving 
light — an ingenious device, worthy of a better cause. 

The third day after passing Abaco we anchored on the Banks, 
as the Bahamas are familiarly called. The water is here beautifully 
clear, the bottom, at a depth of from fifty to eighty feet, being clearly 
visible. I could not look enough at the beauteous conch shells 

o 

strewed along on the bottom, near our vessel, where the depth was 
not quite fifty feet, or at the fish, swimming about among great 


THE BAHAMAS. 


25 


lumps of sponge growing on the rocks. The steward soon had a 
hook and line over the side, but caught only a good-sized stccker, 
which, in turn, as he was being hauled up, caught the side of the vessel, 
and clinging, by means of the flat plate of air-exhausters with which 
these fish are furnished, and from which they take their name, his 
captor, after pulling as hard as he could, was fain to make fast his 
end, until it should suit the fish to let go of his own aceord, which 
did not occur for several hours. 

We had a hearty laugh at the steward’s fishing adventure, which 
was cut short, however, by the mate, who, for lack of something else 
to do, had gone into the hold to have a look at the water-casks, and 
now came upon deck with the information that a six-gallon keg 
would contain every drop of fresh water on board. This was bad 
news. We found, on examination, that it happened in this wise: 
The water-casks put on board in Boston were in poor order, having 
lain on the wharf too long, and all but two had leaked dry ere we 
were two weeks out. Two full casks were, however, left, which was 
abundant to carry us into Mobile Bay. Now the ship was infested 
with a horde of rats, and these had, unknown to us, gnawed holes 
in both these casks, near the bottom. The consequence was, that 
we lost nearly every drop of drinking water. The captain deter- 
mined to run into the nearest Key and obtain a supply sufficient to 
last us to port. 

Accordingly, that evening, a light breeze springing up, we got 
underweigh, and the next afternoon anchored in one of the Berry 
Keys. Scarcely wqs our anchor on the bottom, before a canoe 
shot out from a little jungle near the shore, in the stern of which 
sat a portly “gemman ob color,” whose appearance was certainly 


20 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


calculated to excite attention. He was, as he informed the skipper 
as soon as he got within hail, the Deputy United States Consul 
for Berry’s Keys, and, 'in virtue of his office, had rigged himself out 
in an old blue dress coat with two rows of resplendent eagle 
buttons. But in the purchase of this piece of finery, he had 
evidently exhausted his exchequer, for with the addition of a 
broad palmetto hat, probably of home manufacture, and a rag 
about his middle, ^/le coat co77ipleted his costiime. 

“‘Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen,”’ said the mate 
slyly, as his sable excellency came on board. Bestowing a look 
of supreme contempt upon us “common sailors,” he at once 
marched up to the captain, and inquired, with an air of authority, 
of our ports of departure and destination, and hinted his desire to 
see the ship’s papers. 

“You’d rather see some good rum, old fellow,” said the skip- 
per rather irreverently, “ now, wouldn’t you ?” 

The exhibition of a shining set of ivory, and an almost 
indefinite extension of white about the eyes, were sufficient 
evidences of the favor with which this remark was received. 

The appearance of the steward, with a junk-bottle of the 
article in question, caused the Deputy United States Consul to 
declare himself at our service for anything in his line, which 
proved to be a very short line, however, as it included only an 
abundance of fresh water and a few fresh fish. Accordingly, we 
lowered a boat, and placing in it a cask, pulled ashore, preceded 
by our friend, who, depositing his coat-tails 'carefully on a board 
provided for that purpose, sat in the bottom of his canoe and 
paddled to the beach. Here we found little but a wilderness 


SCENE IN THE BAHAMAS 






% 


MOBILE BAY. 


29 


of tangled brush, in the midst of which was discernible the 
residence of the Deputy United States Consul. His lady, pos- 
sessing, perhaps, a yet scantier wardrobe than her liege lord, 
declined showdng herself, even to the mate, who had expressed 
a strong desire to make her acquaintance. So we were obliged 
to fill our water-cask, “ uncheered,” so said he, “ by the smiles 
of beauty,” and returned on board, with rather a poor opinion 
of this one of Berry’s Keys. Our Consul was monarch of all 
he surveyed, and told us that he had done duty there for the 
United States Government for fifteen years, making only a semi- 
annual trip to New Providence, to relieve the tedium of his 
rather monotonous life. 

Besides the fish and water before mentioned, we were 
fortunate enough to obtain a quantity of turtle eggs, that genuine 
West Indian luxury, which, however, I did not like, although 
cooked in the most approved style. I fancied a fishy taste about 
them, somewhat as though one had been cutting butter with a fish 
knife, and therefore left the delicacy to my more fortunate or less 
particular shipmates. 

Departing thence, we were yet an entire week detained upon 
the Banks, anchoring and weighing anchor, making and furling 
sail, the tedious monotony of the long calm relieved by the 
occasional sight of a wrecking schooner, looking up her prey, or 
of a passing vessel, drifting in sight and out of sight again on 
the far horizon. 

The long-expected “slant” at last came, and a few days’ sailing 
carried us into Mobile Bay. Here we found ourselves forming 
one of quite a considerable fleet of vessels waiting for freights to 


30 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


rise, or cotton to come down, in order to take in their cargoes. 
The city of Mobile is situated at some distance (nearly thirty miles) 
up the Mobile River, the termination of the Alabama and Tombig- 
bee, and is accessible only to ships of light draught, on account of 
Dog River bar, which obstructs the navigation. The Bay is, how- 
ever, perfectly safe, having a good shelter, and the best pf holding 
ground, and vessels often lie here ten and even twelve months, 
waiting for good freights. 

Our crew had determined upon leaving, but at the request of 
the mate had consented to remain long enough to unbend the 
sails, send down the topgallant and royal yards, and paint the vessel 
inside. This done, the captain came down to pay off. 

This being my first voyage, and not being yet so strongly im- 
bued with the vagabonding spirit, I had determined to accept the 
advice of the mate, who said, “ Stay, and we’ll have some fine 
times after all hands are gone.” I was partly persuaded to do 
this by the crew, who, while evidently desiring me to go with 
them, would not conceal from me that Mobile was a poor place 

i 

to get a ship, and that a boy would, of course, have a poorer 
chance than a man. 

We were heartily sorry to part, for although we had been 
but a short time shipmates, all hands had worked so thoroughly 
together, that we felt already toward one another as brothers. 
Before leaving, there was a general turn out of chests in the 
forecastle, and a division of funds, “in order that all might start 
fair” — those who had most money dividing eagerly with their poorer 
shipmates. I was happy in contributing a share to the general 
stock, and so we bade good-by, with a hearty wring of the hand. 


VIEW ON SHORE OF GULF OF MEXICO. 




I 


LIFE IN PORT, 


which I may as well say gratified me greatly, as evidence that I 
had been able to get the real good-will of these single-hearted 
fellows. On getting up to the city they sent me down a fiddle, 
wherewith to relieve the tiresomeness of our stay — a gift of which 
I could, unluckily, make no use, having none of that kind of 
music in my soul. 

There were now left only the two mates, the cook, one sea- 

I 

man, and myself. There being so few on board, of course all 
discipline was considerably relaxed ; with the exception of wash- 
ing decks daily, and an occasional setting up of backstays, there 
was little done. The fine breeze almost always blowing in the 
Bay makes boat-sailing a favorite amusement. We soon 
rigged a sail, and thereafter every favorable day was spent in 
the boat, fishing, or racing, or making picnics ashore, in com- 
pany with the boats’ crews and officers of other vessels. These 

were fine times, and I enjoyed them hugely. In fact, my ex- 

perience so far in a merchant ship had pleased me very much. 
The work, to be sure, was exceedingly hard at sea. My hands, 
after we were, three weeks out, resembled more the claws of 
some animal than any portion of humanity : the fingers swollen 
and bent, the palms horny and hard, and the joints cracked 

open and bleeding. And many a night when I got to my 

snug btink, every bone in my body ached with the exertion of 
turning the huge wheel or swigging home some sheet or hal- 
yard. “ But what’s the odds, so long as you’re happy,” thought 
I, and in the continual novelty I found sufficient to repay me 
-for the hardship. 


1 



CHAPTER IV. 


Taking m cargo — Screwing cotto7i — The gangs and their chants — Depaj'ture for 

Liverpool — Discipline on board. 


UR boat-sailing and fishing lasted nearly a month; when 


one day, returning on board from a race, a letter from 
the captain informed us that the ship was “ taken up.” 

“Where for.?” was, of course, a question eagerly put. 

“ For Liverpool,” was the answer, “ and the cotton to come 
down next week.” 

All was now bustle and preparation. Numberless matters 
were to be attended to before the ship was really ready to 
take in cotton — the ballast was to be squared, dunnage pre- 
pared, the water-casks, provisions, and sails to be lugged on 
deck, out of the way of cargo, the nicely painted decks covered 
with planks, on which to roll cotton, topgallant and royal yards 
crossed, and tackles prepared for hoisting in our freight. We 
had scarcely gotten all things in proper trim, before a lighter- 
load of cotton came down, and with it a stevedore and several 
gangs of the screw me7i, whose business it is to load cotton- 
ships. Screwing cotton is a regular business, requiring, besides , 
immense strength, considerable experience in the handling of 
bales and the management of the jack-screws. 





I 




■'•i 









A SOUTHERN RIVER 




I 


« 


<1 


SCREWING COTTON. 


35 


Several other ships had “ taken up ” cargo at the same 
time we did, and the Bay soon began to wear an appearance 
of life — lighters and steamboats bringing down cotton, and the 
cheerful songs of the screw gangs resounding over the water, as 
the bales were driven tightly into the hold. Freights had sud- 
denly risen, and the ships now loading were getting five eighths 
of a penny per pound. It was therefore an object to get into 
•the ship as many pounds as she could be made to hold. The 
huge, unwieldy bales, brought to Mobile from the plantations up 
the country, are first compressed in the cotton presses, on shore, 
which at once diminishes their size by half, squeezing the soft 
fibre together, till a bale is as solid and almost as hard as a 
lump of iron. In this condition they are brought on board 
and stowed in the hold, where the stevedore makes a point of 
getting three bales into a space in which two could be barely 
put by hand. It is for this purpose the jack-screws are used. 
.A ground tier is laid first ; upon this, beginning aft and for- 
ward, two bales are placed with their inner corners projecting out, 
.and joining, leaving a triangular space vacant within. A hickory 
post is now placed against the nearest beam, and with this for 
a fulcrum, the screw is applied to the two bales at the point 
where the corners join, and little by little they come together, 
are straightened up, and fill up the triangular space. So 
great is the force applied, that not unfrequently the ship’s decks 
are raised off the stanchions which support them, and the seams 
are torn violently asunder. 

Five hands compose a gattg, four to work the screws, and 
-one to do the headwork — for no little shrewd management is 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


36 

necessary to work in the variously sized bales. When a lighter- 
load of cotton comes alongside, all hands turn to and hoist it 
in. It is piled on deck until wanted below. As soon as the lighter 
is empty, the gangs go down to the work of stowing it. Two 
bales being placed and the screws applied, the severe labor begins. 
The gang, with their shirts off, and handkerchiefs tied about 
their heads, take hold the handles of the screws, the fore- 
man begins the song, and at the end of every two lines the. 
worm of the screw is forced to make one revolution, thus 
gaining perhaps two inches. Singing, or chanting, 3s it is called, 
is an invariable accompaniment to working in cotton, and many 
of the screw-gangs have an endless collection of songs, rough 
and uncouth, both in words and melody, but answering well 
the purposes of making all pull together, and enlivening the 

heavy toil. The foreman is the cha^ity-mari, who sings the song, 

the gang only joining in the chorus, which comes in at the 
end of every line, and at the end of which again comes the 
pull at the screw handles. One song generally suffices to bring 
home the screw, when a new set is got upon the bale, and a 
■fresh song is commenced. 

The chants, as may be supposed, have more rhyme than 
reason in them. The tunes are generally plaintive and monot- 
onous, as are most of the capstan tunes of sailors, but re- 

sounding over the still waters of the Bay, they had a fine 
effect. There was one, in which figured that mythical person- 
age, “Old Stormy,” the rising and falling cadences of which, as 
they swept over the Bay on the breeze, I was never tired of 

listening to. It may amuse some of my readers to give here 


COTTON 














THE SONGS OF THE GANGS. 


39 


a few stanzas of this and some other of these chants. “ Stormy” 
is supposed to have died, and the first song begins : 

Old Stormy, he is dead and gone, 

Chorus — Carry him along, boys, carry him along. 

Oh ! carry him to his long home. 

Chorus — Carry him to the burying-ground. 

Oh ! ye who dig Old Stormy's grave. 

Chorus — Carry him along, boys, carry him along, 

Dig it deep and bury him safe. 

Chorus — Carry him to the burying-ground. 

Lower him down with a golden chain. 

Chorus — Carry him along, boys, carry him along. 

Then he’ll never rise again, 

Chorus — Carry him to the burying-ground. 

Grarid Chorus — Way-oh-way-oh-way — storm along, 

Way — you rolling crew, storm along stormy. 

And so on ad infinihim, or, more properly speaking, till 
the screw is run out. 

There was another in praise of Dollars, commencing thus : 

Oh, we work for a Yankee Dollar, 

Chorus — Hurrah, see — man — do, 

Yankee dollar, bully dollar. 

Chorus — Hurrah, see — man — dollar. 

Silver dollar, pretty dollar. 

Chorus — Hurrah, see — man — do, 

I want your silver dollars, 

Chorus — Captain, pay me dollar. 


Another, encouraging the gang: 


40 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


Lift him up and carry him along, 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Put him down where he belongs, 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Ease him down and let him lay. 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Screw him in, and there he’ll stay. 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Stow him in his hole below. 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Say he must, and then he’ll go, 

Fire, maringo, fire away. 

Yet another, calling to their minds the peculiarities of 
many spots with which they have become familiar in their 
voyagings : 

Were you ever in Quebec, 

Chorus — Bonnie laddie, highland laddie. 

Stowing timber on the deck, 

Chorus — ]\Iy bonnie highland laddie, oh. 

Were you ever in Dundee, 

Chorus — Bonnie laddie, highland laddie. 

There some pretty ships you’ll see. 

Chorus — IMy bonnie highland laddie, oh. 

Were vou ever in iMerrimashee, 

Chorus — Bonnie laddie, highland laddie, 

( 

Where you make fast to a tree. 

Chorus — IMy bonnie highland laddie, oh. 

Were you ever in Mobile Bay, 

Chorus — Bonnie laddie, highland laddie. 

Screwing cotton by the day, 

Chorus — My bonnie highland laddie, oh. 


THE GANGS. 


41 


These samples, which might be continued to an almost 
indefinite extent, will give the reader an idea of what capstan 
and cotton songs, or chants, are. The tunes are the best por- 
tion, of course, in all such rude performances. But these are 

only to be heard on board ship. 

The men who yearly resort to Mobile Bay to screw 
cotton are, as may be imagined, a ' rough set. They are mostly 
English and Irish sailors, who, leaving their vessels here, remain 
until they have saved a hundred or two dollars,, then ship for 
Liverpool, London, or whatever port may be their favorite, 
there to spree it all away, and return to work out another 

supply. Screwing cotton is, I think, fairly entitled to be called 

the most exhausting labor that is done on shipboard. Cooped 
up in the dark and confined hold of a vessel, the gangs tug 
from morning till night at the screws, the perspiration running 
off them like water, every muscle strained to its utmost. But 
the men who follow it prefer it to going to sea. They have 
better pay, better living, and, above all, are not liable to be 
called out at any minute in the night, to fight the storm, or, 
worse yet, to work the ship against a head-wind. Their pay 
is two dollars per day, and their provisions furnished. They 
sleep upon the cotton-bales in the hold, but few of them 
bringing beds aboard with them. Those we had on board 
drank more liquor and chewed more tobacco than any set of 
men I ever saw elsewhere, the severe labor seeming to require 
an additional stimulus. Altogether, I thought theirs a rough 
life, not at all to be envied them. 

Four weeks sufficed to load our bark, and the last key- 


42 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


bale was scarce down the hatchway, when “ Loose the topsails 
and heave short on the cable,” was the word, and we pro- 
ceeded to get underweigh for Liverpool. Our new crew had 
come on board several days previously, and proved to be much 
better than the average to be obtained in cotton ports, places 
where sailors are generally scarce, and the rough screw-gangs 
mostly fill their places. 

The first thing to be done, in preparing for sea, in a mer- 
chant vessel, is to put on the hatches (the coverings for the 
holes in the deck, where cargo is put down), and tightly caulk 
and batten them, a tarpaulin being nailed over all, for greater 
security from the ingress of water. This done, and several 
bales which we were to carry upon deck placed upon the 
hatchways, we sailed out of harbor with a fair wind, spreading 
our studding sails to the breeze. 

That evening watches were again chosen, and I found 
myself, to my great pleasure, once more in the mate’s watch. 
As the ship was in excellent order, alow and aloft, and as, 
too, there was some expectation of our meeting with stormy 
weather during the latter part of our passage, watch-and-watck 
was given us from the first. With this, good living, and kind 
officers, we had cause to congratulate ourselves upon having a 
good ship, and after the first few days of hurrying work was 
over, all went pleasantly. 

Our mates were strict disciplinarians, and although we were 
allowed our regular watches below, no one was permitted to 
be idle on deck. No sooner did the watch come up from 
below, than each one had his job given him, and not an idle 


A GOOD SHIP. 


43 


moment was spent during the four hours of watch. Here were 
two, drawing and knotting rope-yarns. There one, going aloft,, 
marling-spike in hand, to mend some defective piece of rigging, 

put on new chafing-gear, or seize up ratlines. Yonder another, 

twisting foxes, or thrumming a paunch-mat. In short, each one 
must be doing something. This is the rule of the merchant 
service — one that is carried out, whether there is any necessary 
work on hand or not — and I have not unfrequently plaited 
sinnet, or made spunyarn for an entire passage, which would 
scarcely ever be used, and was only made “ to keep the men 
busy.” 

I have often remarked that at sea all kinds of labor, except 
that which is actually necessary, is irksome — and there is no 
greater, as there is no more unusual luxury to the merchant sailor, 
than to pass a watch on deck without being occupied. This is 

a piece of good fortune which only happens during a storm, 

when the violent motion of the vessel precludes the possibility of 
setting men at any of the usual employments, and when also 
wise officers are desirous of husbanding the energies of the 
crew for the performance of the more necessary duties of short- 
ening sail and working ship. It sounds odd to a landsman to 
wish for a storm, but give Jack a tight and good sea-boat, and 
experienced officers, and he sees no more comfortable times 
than in a good steady gale. On such an occasion, with the 
good ship hove-to under a close-reefed maintopsail, or a storm- 
mizzen, the helm lashed down hard alee, and everything snug,, 
alow and aloft, the watch gathers together under the topgallant 
forecastle, or on the forehateh, spinning long yarns of past gales,. 


44 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


or sprees on shore, and the four hours slip away before one 
knows it. 

It was on such an occasion, during this voyage to Liver- 
pool, that being one day snugly ensconced on some cotton-bales 
lying upon the forehatchway, old Anton gave us the following 
experience of a trip in a slaver. Anton was a Spanish sailor, 
one of the olden kind, “ first on the yard and last at the mess,” 
a fellow who had literally been everywhere, and had lived a 
long life of most singular vicissitudes and romantic adventures. 
The yarn, however, we will reserve for another chapter. 



CHAPTER V. 

Old Anton's yarn^ A cruise m a Slaver, 

W ELL, boys,” said Anton, “ settle yourselves down herev 
and I’ll spin you that yarn, as the mate seems quiet, 
and there’s no fear of making sail this watch, judging from 
present appearances. 

“ I was in Havana, where I had left the ship Isidore, of 
Barcelona, in order to take a little longer cruise on shore 
than the captain seemed willing to allow us. I had gotten 
nearly to the bottom of my pocket — it don’t take long to do 
that anywhere in Cuba — and was looking out for a ship, when 
happening one evening into a little cigar-shop, on the Mole, a 
gentleman who had just purchased a box of cigars asked me 
if I did not want to skip. I said yes, of course. 

“‘Well, there’s a brig in the harbor, bound to Teneriffe, for 
wine, which wants a hand or two. I’m the supercargo, and if 
you’ll say you’ll go. I’ll pay you your advance, go with you 
to your boarding-house, and take you on board with me. We 
sail to-night.’ 

“ I had nothing to keep me in Havana, and embraced the 
proposal. In less than an hour I was on board, chest and ham- 
mock, and we slipped our moorings and ran out past the Moro 


.46 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


■Castle, with a fine breeze. We were six hands in the forecastle, 
two Portuguese, three Spaniards, and an American. I had the 
mid-watch on deck. On turning out at seven bells the next 
morning, I went on deck, to take a daylight look at the craft 
in which I had shipped, as, it being a dark night when I came 

s 

•on board, I had been able to see but little of her. I found 
her a remarkably sharp, clipper-built vessel, evidently calculated to 
sail at a great rate, and a glance at the long, tapering spars, 
.and the immense spread of her topsails, convinced me that she 
.had never been built for a wine drogher. 

“ The captain was an Englishman, the mate a Scotchman — 
which rather surprised me, as the vessel showed Spanish colors. 
They carried a press of canvas from the first, and paid more 
attention to the steering than is usual among that class of vessels. 
Altogether, I felt as though, if she were a wine drogher, she had 
gotten strangely out of place — but, of course, I never suspected 
what was her true business. But the third day out told the 
whole story. On coming on deck that morning, I found, to 
any great surprise, some sixteen or seventeen men besides 
our regular crew congregated on the topgallant forecastle and 
about the foremast; among them I recognized several Havana 
.acquaintances, who seemed somewhat surprised to see me there. 
From them I got an inkling of what was in the wind ; but the 
whole matter was explained to me after breakfast. 

“ ‘ Send Anton to the wheel, ’ was the word passed to the 
forecastle, and I proceeded aft. Arrived there, the captain and 
supercargo laid before me the real purpose of the voyage — 
.declared themselves sorry to have gotten me on board under 


PEAK OF TENERIFFE 









J. 




A CRUISE IN A SLAVER. 


49 


false pretences, but made the want of hands their excuse, and 
then told me that I would now have to go the voyage, and 
would receive the same pay as the regularly shipped hands. 

“ It appeared that we were bound to the east coast of 
Africa, up the Mozambique Channel, for a cargo of slaves. We, 
the crew, were to receive one hundred dollars adv^ance, and 
two dollars per man for every slave landed, which, as she had 
irons and cooking apparatus for eight hundred, bade fair to 
bring in no inconsiderable sum. The one hundred dollars 
advance were counted out to me, in Spanish doubloons, when 
my trick at the wheel was out. 

“ Everything now took a different turn, as regarded disci- 
pline on board. The officers assumed a sterner manner, and 
kept the crew at regular man-of-war rules. None of the dila- 
toriness of the merchantman was allowed. Sail was made and 
taken in expeditiously, and we^ — there were enough of us — could 
handle the craft like a top. She was a beauty to sail, and 
steered like a boat, and altogether was the likeliest vessel I 
ever set foot on. 

“ But I did not feel at home on her. There was a reck- 
less spirit among the crew, which did not please me, who was 
then yet a young man, and the imperiousness of the officers 
suited me still less. We had been but a few days out, when 
on occasion of a slight misunderstanding between two of the 
hands, the captain suddenly made his appearance in our midst, 
pistol in hand, and gave the turbulently disposed to under- 
stand that he was master of all there. 

‘“No fighting, no quarrelling, no knives, I won’t have it,’ 


50 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


said he, ‘and the first one that gives me a word of insolence, 
I’ll shoot him as I would a dog.’ 

'‘The crew cowered beneath his glance — and he had the 
vietory. But not until he had carried his threat into execu- 

tion did the unquiet spirits he had shipped entirely give up. 
The occasion was not long in coming. We had dowsed our 

topgallantsails to a squall, off the Cape, and when it was over, 

a hand had gone aloft to loose the main. In letting fall the 

sail he neglected to overhaul the gear, and was half way down 

the main rigging, when the skipper ordered him aloft to do 
so. He replied surlily, that he was no errand boy to run 
aloft, and was still coming down, when, quick as a flash, the 

captain drew a pistol from his bosom, fired, and the man fell 

dead upon the deck. 

“‘Sheet home that sail,’ shouted the mate to the rest. 
When it was hoisted, all hands were called aft. 

“ ‘ I want you to know that I am master here, and will 
stand no nonsense. Not a whimper, not a surly look, from 
one of you. If any of you don’t feel perfectly satisfied at the 
fate of that dog. I’ve another ball, and the will to let him 
have it. I ask no extraordinary service, but when I say go, 
you must, if I shoot every mother’s son of you. Now go 
forward, and a couple of you throw that carcass overboard.’ 

“This was the address of the skipper, and I tell you, boys, 
there’s very little comfort in . sailing with a man who cares as 
little about life as he did, or as the general run of slaving 
captains do. You don’t know what minute you’re going to 
lose the number of your mess. 


PROCURING A SLAVE CARGO. 


51 


“Well, we rounded the Cape, ran up the Mozambique, and 
made Delagoa Bay, where was the factory to which we were 
consigned. A few days before making the land, we laid our 
slave deck, rigged the irons, and fixed up the' cooking appa- 
ratus. The officers were now at the masthead continually, 
keeping a lookout for sails, as men-of-war are often cruising 
in those latitudes. We made Delagoa Bay without an acci- 
dent, ran up the river, which here empties its waters into the 
sea, and anchored. It took two days and nights to get the 
negroes on board, when word being brought by a lookout 
stationed in the offing, that the coast was clear, we spread 
•every sail to the breeze, and soon left the coast behind us. 
We had now some disagreeable work to do. Eight hundred 
slaves were to be taken care of, and watched, and all our force 
was needed to do the work thoroughly. Two men, well armed, 
kept guard night and day, at each hatchway, which we were 
obliged to keep open, to prevent the miserable creatures in the 
■hold from being entirely suffocated. The slaves were fed once a 
day, some of the most quiet of them being cast loose at such 
times, and employed to serve out the miserable pittance of 
boiled rice, or beans, and water, on which they subsisted. Twice 
■daily, small portions of them were brought upon deck, to get a 
swallow of the fresh air, being carefully guarded meanwhile. But 
the hold, boys, oh, it was horrible. The stench was enough to 
knock one down. And the constant moaning, and the pitiful 
looks of the poor wretches, as they reclined, one on the top of 
the other’s legs (so closely they were stowed), haunted me for 
many a day afterward. 


52 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


“ VV e had rounded the Cape once more, and were nearly 
abreast of St. Helena, when one morning the second mate, at 
the masthead, sung out sail- ho ! We had, some days before 

this, lashed our topsail-sheets to the yard-arms, and racked the- 
topsail halyards, to prevent the possibility of shortening sail,, 
should we want to, and now clapped on every additional rag 
that could help along the least, as just here was the most dan- 
gerous spot in all the passage, being a portion of the Atlantic 
very much frequented by English cruisers. 

“The sail we had sighted had evidently also seen us and 
altered his course for us, as, although we had hauled upon a 
wind as soon as we saw him, he still continued in sight, and,, 
in fact, rather gained upon us. The captain walked the deck 
uneasily, every few minutes hailing the masthead, to know if 
there was any alteration in his appearance. 

“ ‘ He holds a better breeze than we do, and wedl have tO' 
try him upon another tack.’ 

“We did try him upon every tack — now going straight 
before the wind, now with it abeam, and again close-hauled. Still 
he gained upon us slowly, but surely, and by dark his top- 
sails were visible off deck. A thorough trial had convinced 
the captain, that with the wind about two points free was 
our best chance, and accordingly we swept along under a ter- 
rible press of canvas, the very best helmsmen only being 
allowed to take the wheel, and the captain continually look- 
ing into the compass, to see that she was kept straight. The 
wind was fresh, and the little craft staggered like a drunken 
man, under the crowd of sail which was forcing her along. 


VIEW OF ST. HELENA. 



0 


THE CHASE. 


55 


Everything was new and good, and now, if ever, was the time 
to try what virtue there was in hemp. Therefore, ‘ what she 
can’t carry let her drag,’ was the word. 

“All night we flew on, the wind roaring fiercely through the 
rigging, while the timbers groaned in melancholy cadence. We 
made good headway, and strong hopes were entertained that by 
daylight we should have left the foe behind. Hopes which were, 
however, to be disappointed, for as soon as the sun rose above the 
horizon, we saw the same topsails, no nearer, but no farther off , 
either. All day, all night, and all next day, this tedious chase con- 
tinued, we straining every nerve to escape, but seeming bound to 
the accursed vessel astern, whose position we could not change 
the least. The captain had been getting more and more impatient 
at being thrown so far out of his direct track, and had we been 
thoroughly armed, would, no doubt, have turned upon our pui> 
suer, .and then and there decided the fate of the vessel, by force 
of arms. 

“As it was, a bright idea struck him. We had sighted, on the 
last evening, two other vessels, probably whale ships, from their 
rigs, sailing leisurely along under short canvas. The presence of 
these it was determined to bring in to our advantage. A large 
cask was fitted with some iron in the bottom, and a mast secured 
in the top head. • To the head of this mast was made fast a large 
lantern, with reflectors, which would throw out a bright light, visi- 
ble at a great distance. The night proved exceedingly dark, which 
was favorable to the success of our plan. About ten o’clock, every 
light in the ship was carefully extinguished, even the binnacle light, 
which illuminates the face of the compass, being shaded. The 


56 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


lantern being then lighted, and securely closed, to keep the water 
from it, the cask and mast were carefully lowered over the side, 
when it nicely balanced. Having watched it a while to see that 
it was perfectly safe, we quickly dowsed all the light sails, securing 
them, however, only temporarily, ready to be cast loose at a mo- 
ment's warning, then double-reefed the topsails, whaler fashion, 
and putting her about, on the other tack, steered boldly down upon 
our pursuer. 

“Sailing toward him, it took us but a short time to reach him. 
He was coming at a fearful rate; every stitch of canvas set, and the 
water rushing and roaring about his bows like a young Niagara. 
As she pitched, the great waves would make a clean breach over 
her head, and we could hear them, as we got closer, sweeping fore 
and aft, and pouring out at the stern ports. She was one of the 
little ten-gun brigs, of which Britishers are so fond, and which they 
have expressively named ‘ bathing machines/ on account of their 
wetness. 

^‘As the two vessels neared each other, all hands were ordered 
to keep perfect silence and to stow themselves away out of sight, 
but ready for any emergency. It was an anxious time, boys, as we 
lay under the guns of our enemy, nearing her, until she was not 
more than half pistol-shot off. The brig had yawed a little off her 
regular course as we approached her, with the evident intention of 
speaking us. We favored the movement by making two or three 
broad sheers toward her. Our skipper leaned carelessly against 
the mainshrouds, speaking-trumpet in hand, ready' to answer his 
hail. The hatches had been carefully closed over the poor darkies, 
in order that no chance cry or groan should awaken the suspicions 


THE TRICK. 


57 


of the enemy. On, on, we came, until just as the bows of the 
two ships were in line. 

“ ‘Ship a-hoy!’' was hailed from the brig. It was so dark that 
they could not distinguish even the rig of our vessel. 

Hillo!’ 

‘“Did you pass a vessel in the early part of the night, going 
along under a press of canvas } ' 

“ ‘Ya-as!’ was answered, with an unmistakable Yankee drawl, 
by our skipper. ‘ Y onder’s her light, a little on your starboard bow, 
I reckon, ’ added he. 

“‘ Yes, I know, we’ve been in chase of her for three days, and, 
blast her, we’re too much for her — we’re gaining on her rapidly — 
she’s a slaver. ’ 

“‘Du tell — a slaver! well, captain, she’s an almighty small craft. 
Reckon you’ll have to lopk sharp to catch her.’ 

“ By this time she was already beyond speaking-distance, the 
last words we heard being, ‘infernal lazy Yankee,’ in answer, prob- 
ably, to our skipper’s last speech, and under the supposition that 
ours was one of the Yankee whale ships. 

“ All this passed much quicker, boys, than I can tell it to you. 
When we could no longer hear the rush of her bows through the 
water, we let our craft go a good rapful, and standing on for half 
an hour longer, silently set every stitch of canvas she could pos- 
sibly bear, and putting her square before it, let her rip for the 
Brazils. , 

“ Our scheme succeeded to admiration. When the- sun rose, 
the British brig was nowhere to be seen, and I needn’t say, that if 
carrying on sail would keep us clear of him, that was not wanting. 


58 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


You talk about packet ships, lads, but if you want your hair to 
stand on end, take a slaver in a chase, or when she has just 
escaped one. The little craft was fairly driven through the 
waves. There was no living forward. Every sea she took came 
bodily over the bows, and went out at the stern ports. She 
quivered like an aspen under the pressure of her enormous top- 
sails, and the tall masts leaned away to leeward; as though every 
minute readv to go over the side. 

“ Already before we sighted the Britisher, our cargo had be- 
gun to die off, and now every morning watch we were obliged 
to go below, and, unlinking the dead from the living, drag the 
emaciated corpses upon deck, and toss them over to leeward. 
It’s horrid work, this burying dead by the wholesale. Not all 
the money in the world would hire me to take another turn at it. 

“As we neared the Brazilian coast, a sharper lookout than 
common was kept by the officers, who took regular turns at the 
masthead. Two days before we made the land, a sail hove in 
sight. We stood toward it, and soon made it out to be a jittle 
schooner-boat, sent out to warn us of danger, and direct us to a 
part of the eoast that was clear. Taking on board one of the 
owners, who had come out in this boat, we altered our course a 
little, and on the second morning thereafter made the land, and 
ran safely into a little inlet a few miles south of Porto Seguro. 
Dropping anchor close in shore, we were directly surrounded by 
boats, and in five hours after coming in had landed six hundred 
and eighty-five negroes, all that were left out of eight hundred - 
and two, one hundred and seventeen having died on the pa.ssage. 
No sooner was the last slave out of the brig than we were called 


SCENE OF PLANTATION IN BRAZIL. 


r 










LANDING THE CARGO. 


6l 

aft, paid off, and the choice given us to have our passage paid 
to Rio, or to be paid two dollars and a half per day, to take the 
vessel around there, as soon as the slave gear was taken out of her. 

“ For my part, I had had enough of slaving, and went 
ashore, with one thousand three hundred and seventy dollars,, 
in doubloons, in my belt, determined never to be caught in a 
vessel out of Havana again.” 

Seven bells struck as old Anton finished his yarn, and we- 
started aft to pump ship, which being done, and eight bells, 
struck, we were glad to turn into our warm bunks. 


/ 


CHAPTER VI. 


A gale off Cape Clea?' — Nearly ashore — Liverpool — What a sailor sees of it. 

W E had a tedious passage, and were already forty-eight 
days out, when we sighted Cape Clear. It had been 
blowing quite heavily for several days, but the wind being only 
a little forward of the beam, we had made good progress, even 
under the short canvas we dared to show to it. For a cotton- 
loaded ship is generally crank, and will not bear much carry- 
ing on sail. 

Our bark was stiffer than common, on account of having 
an unusual quantity of ballast in, under the cotton. And to 
this fortunate circumstance we, in all probability, now owed our 
lives and the safety of the ship. 

We had been going along all day under close-reefed top- 
sails and reefed foresail, but as the wind freshened toward night, 
and as, besides, the old man had not had an observation for 
some days, it was judged advisable to take in the foretopsail 
and foresail, and lie to all night. Before doing so, we got a 
■cast of the deep sea lead, and found bottom in about one hun- 
dred fathoms, which the skipper thought would give us a good 
offing. 

The foresail was furled first, and we were just coming down 


A GALE ON A LEE SHORE. 


63 


•off the foretopsail yard after having snugly stowed that sail, when, 
casting a look around at the scud flying wildly past at the 
mercy of the gale, one of the seamen, an unusually sharp-sighted 
fellow, descried a light upon the lee bow. 

The mate was aloft instantly, to convince himself that we 
were not deceived. Sure enough, there was the light. Cape 
Clear Light, as we all knew it to be, plainly visible, at a dis- 
tance of not more than twelve or thirteen miles, dead under our 
lee, too. 

We had now the choice before us, either to turn about be- 
fore the wind, and run around the southern point of Ireland, with 
a prospect of having to beat all the way back again, perhaps a 
two weeks’ piece of work, or to carry on sail, and force her 
past the point, when we would have a fair wind into Liver- 

pool, and be safely moored in the docks in thirty-six hours. 

The captain and mate consulted for a few minutes, when 

orders were given to loose the foretopsail and turn a reef out, 
shake a reef out of the maintopsail, set the reefed mainsail, and 
foresail, and the storm mizzen. 

“ She imist weather that light, boys,” said the old man, com- 
ing forward to give us a pull at the foretopsail sheets, “she 
must weather it, if we give her whole topsails.” ^ 

We put the sail on her, and as she filled, and gathered 

headway through the sea, it seemed as though every stick must 

go out of her, so heavily did everything appear strained. The 
vessel lay fairly over on her side, and the gale scarcely allowed 
her to lift her head at all. Her motion was that of a continual 
sending plunge, as though going deeper and deeper all the time. 


64 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


The vast billows rolled under her, and as she slid down into the 
trough of the seas, it seemed sometimes as though she were- 
nevef to stop. 

The light, when we made it, was about four points on the 
lee bow — that is to say, it bore from us in a direction about 
forty-five degrees from the course the vessel was lying. It was, 
at the same time, full twelve miles off, and it was certain, 
that with the drift we would inevitably make, in so crank a 
vessel, if we weathered it at all, it would be rather close sailing. 

The best helmsman was sent to the wheel, and all hands 

remained upon deck during the dogwatch, keeping the bearings- 
of the light, and endeavoring to see if we altered its place- 

any. Our progress, owing to the exceedingly heavy sea, was- 
but slow, and seemed nearly as much to leeward as ahead. 
After an hour’s sailing the light was a little farther aft, per- 

haps a point, but it was also much nearer, showing that we 
were drifting very fast down upon it. 

At eight bells we turned a reef out of the fore.sail, and out- 
of the foretopsail, and under the additional impetus given her 
by this increase of sail, she trembled in every beam and tim- 

ber, and in the forecastle the groaning and crocking of the poor 
hull, as she was tossed from sea to sea, made an unearthly 
din, which rendered sleeping, and even talking, out of the ques- 
tion. It seemed as though the good ship knew her danger 
and feared it. 

No one thought of turning in. The excitement was too 
(Treat — and even had it not been so, the shin was thrown 
about so violently as to make lying down in a bunk almost- 


CARRYING ON SAIL. 


65 


a- matter of impossibility. We who had the watch below laid 
down on the chests, to leeward, and talked over the chances, 
occasionally hearing from the deck how matters were going on. 

At ten o’clock the light was still two points before the 
beam, and now its glare seemed fearfully plain, almost casting 
a shadow upon our deck. The gale seemed increasing in fury, 
the scud flew wildly across the moon, now obscuring, now 
revealing her disk ; and the storm-wind shrieked through the 
strained cordage, while ever, as the vessel rose upon a billow, 
the light looked down upon us, cold and clear, a silent 
monitor of the danger which darkness hid from our sight. 

Eleven o’clock came, and the light, which looked as 
though it was suspended over our heads, seeming occasionally 
to be almost within reach, as a passing cloud reflected its 
glare, was still forward of the beam. 

Even the captain and mate now seemed doubtful of the 
result; and we of the forecastle silently went down and lashed 
up our chests, ready to go ashore. It was curious to observe 
the various ways in which our position affected different indi* 
viduals of the crew. Two or three, before lashing up their 
chests, took out and put on their best clothing, looking 
strangely out of place, in their white shirts and gay blue 
jackets, amid so wild a scene. One old tar went about the 
forecastle, picking up pots and pans and other articles, which 
had been thrown down by the violent motion of the ship, placing 
everything snugly in the lockers, and making our rough home 
tidy — perhaps preparing thus for the long Sabbath which seemed 
about to dawn, thought I. Some looked themselves out pieces 


66 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


of heavy plank, to which they might lash themselves, to en- 
counter the coming struggle with the breakers; while one or 
two sat apart, communing with themselves or with their God. 

Twelve o’clock came. The light was now almost abeam, 
but we seemed to be drifting upon it too fast for escape. 

“ Unless the wind favors us, lads, another half hour will 
find us in the breakers,” said the skipper, who had come 
forward, perhaps, to take a last look at his crew. 

“ Well, sir, we’ve done all that in us lay — and the rest is 
with God,” said an old tar, resignedly. “ It’s a windy night, 
and if the old craft once gets into the breakers, a' very few 
minutes will make an end of all.” 

Now the wind favors us a little. 

“Luff! luff! luff! you may!” shouts the captain, cheerily, 
as a fresh blast strikes us from abeam. 

“There she points her head to windward — full sails — keep 
full — well, there’s two whole points gained, and another half 
point will clear us.” 

Hope once more revived in our bosoms. The wind was 
evidently hauling, being probably influenced by the land, which 
could not now have been more than half a mile distant. 

We could distinguish the dull, deafening roar of the surf 
as it broke upon the crags which surround the little islet 
upon which stands the lighthouse. WT could already feel the 
tremendous sweep of the sea toward the rocks. We were on 
the edge of the fatal ground-swell, from which, if we once got 
in it, no power on earth could bring us out again. It was in 
our utmost need that this unexpected favoring slant occurred. 



■1 


THE ESTATE. 


67 


Twenty minutes more would have carried us into the under- 
tow, and then not all the breezes in the world could have 
saved our gallant ship or her crew. But 


The wind continued hauling, and also moderated fast, as 
we drew more under the land, until by half-past two we were 
steering our course up channel, with whole topsails set. The 
sun rose next morning bright and clear, the gale of the pre- 
ceding night had calmed down to a gentle breeze, the sea had 
died away, and we were rolling along quietly before the windi 
with the “ Ould Head of Kinsale ” on our larboard bow.* 

On the evening of the next day we came to anchor in 
the Mersey, the river upon which Liverpool lies. The tide 
runs very rapidly here, and it became necessary to steer our 
vessel, even as she was lying at anchor, to keep her from 
sheering about and breaking her ground. And I could truly 
sav that the very worst trick at the wheel I had, the whole 
of that voyage, was while the old craft was safely moored in 
the Mersey. 

The next morning at high tide we hauled into the docks. 
These docks, which are the boast of Liverpool, are enormous 

* A gale of wind, on soundings — that is, near the land, where the water is from 
twenty to forty fathoms deep — raises very quickly an extremely disagreeable chop-sea, much 
worse than would have happened on the broad ocean. But, on the other hand, in a very 
few hours after the gale has moderated, the worst sea on soundings will smooth down, while 
■K^upon the wide Atlantic the heavy ground-swell remains for days. Any one who has ever 
smoothed the water in a tub by laying his flat hands upon it, will know how to account 


There’s a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft 
That looks out for the life of poor Jack.” 



for this. 


68 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


basins, capable, some of them, of holding several hundred ves- 
sels, and constructed of solid masonry. As an evidence of the 
triumph of human skill and enterprise, over the obstacles pre- 
sented by nature, these massive works cannot be too highly 

praised. Without them, Liv- 
erpool would be a third-rate 
shipping port. With them, it 
is one of the principal com- 
mercial emporiums of the 
world. 

The docks are rendered 
necessary here, by the fact 
that the extraordinary rise 
and fall of the tide (twenty- 
seven feet being the mean 
height) would make it im- 
possible for vessels to lie at 
wharves, as they do in all 
the large American seaports. 
It becomes necessary, to facil- 
itate the labor of loading and 
unloading, to secure the ves- 
sels in such a manner that 
the tides shall not affeet 
them. This is done by the docks. These are fitted with 
immense floodgates, of massive strength, which are opened only 
at high tide, when the water is at its highest. At this time, all 
vessels going out haul out, and, next, vessels inward bound haul 



ON THE LIVERPOOL WHARVES. 



LI VERPOOL. 


69 


in, the gates are closed, and the ships ride securely in a large 
artificial basin, the surface of which is, at low tide, nearly thirty 
feet above the surface of the river. 

Of course, where a number of vessels are crowded together 
in a dock from which there can be no exit, except at certain 
stated intervals, it becomes imperiously necessary to take all 
proper precautions against accidents by fire. Accordingly, the 
use of fire or light of any kind is strictly prohibited within the 
dock walls. Officers, who search the ship thoroughly, take into 
their temporary possession all matches and other inflammable 
material. It is a finable offence to be caught smoking on board 
ship, and to do away with the necessity of cooking, all hands 
are boarded ashore at the expense of the vessel. 

Watchmen are at all times, day and night, prowling about 
to detect any breaches of the rules regarding fire or light, and 
a heavy fine to the ship, and imprisonment to the individual, 
is the consequence of detection. 

The day after our arrival, a gang of stevedores came on 
board to unload the cotton. To show how tightly it had 
been screwed in at Mobile Bay, it is only necessary to say 
that it took fifteen men and two tackles an entire hour to 
break out six bales in the tier next the main hatchway. 

While the cotton was going out, we, the crew, were 
engaged in painting the vessel outside, and refitting sundry 
portions of her rigging, which required it. 

I do not know what impressions Liverpool may make 
upon the landsman traveller. A sailor, in describing it, would 
most probably say that the places most worthy of a visit, or 


70 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


the lions, are the docks, Nelson’s Monument, the Royal 
Exchange, and the New Sailors’ Home — that its chief places 
of amusement are the singing-houses and the donkey races, 
and that the great bulk of the inhabitants is about equally 
divided into three classes, policemen, tailors, and fishwomen. 



ST. GEORGE’S HALL. 


This is, of course, what might be styled rather a salt-water 
view of England’s great commercial emporium — yet, what but 
a one-sided view does the common sailor get of any strange 
place he may visit. He has no opportunity for seeing any- 
thing more than just that portion of the ouisxde which hap- 
pens to be turned toward him. 


TAILORS' SHOPS. 


71 


Jack 

works 

hard 

all 

day. 

and after supper goes 

to 

a sing- 

ing-house. 

where 

he 

mav 

sit 

at one of a number 

of 

tables, 


with a shipmate or two, smoke his penn’orth of ’backy, drink 
his pot of ’alf-and-alf, and listen to some good, bad, and indif- 
ferent singing. These free concert rooms, as they are called. 



ST. GEORGE’S SQUARE. 


are the principal charms of Liverpool to sailors. Here they 
congregate during the long winter evenings, enjoying them- 
selves, quietly, soberly, and at but little expense. 

The tailors’ shops are the places of resort next in impor- 
tance to singing-houses. No sooner has your ship entered the 
dock gates than she is besieged on all sides by an army of 




72 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


tailors, each anxious to secure the custom of the crew, and 
willing to propitiate the captain, by the sacrifice of a pea-jacket 
or overcoat, or, if necessary, of an entire suit. 

And, in truth, not a few captains of American merchant 
vessels find it to their interest to make their tailors the 

bankers of the crew, thus forcing the men to trade with a 
certain individual, and to take from him certain amounts of 
his goods, in order to obtain certain other amounts of cash. 

Thus, a cajDtain says to his crew who ask him for a little 
money on Saturday night ; “ Go to Mr. Snip, I have left your 
money there.” 

Off post Tom, Dick, and Harry, to Mr. Snip’s establish- 

ment, in Church Street, or wherever it may be, where they are 

informed that Captain — has left no money for his crew, 

but simply opened a credit for them, for clothing — but if the 
men want to get a suit of clothes each, Mr. Snip has no 
objection in the world to putting them into the bill at five 
dollars more than they will cost, and paying the balance, 
minus a percentage, over to Tom, Dick, or Harry. 

And so Jack Tar is chiselled, and earns himself the name 
of spendthrift, by paying for an accommodation, while the gentle- 
manly captain, by simply keeping his hands in his pockets, 
has made a suit of clothes. This is part of a sea-side view 
of Liverpool. 

“Well, but,” says the landsman, “I would take neither 

clothes nor money, rather than be cheated so barefacedly.” 
This is all very good, and resolutions to that effect are made 
by nearly every American ship’s crew that goes into Liver- 


EXTORTION. 


73 


pool docks ; and broken as often as made. One must have 

money in Liverpool, and the number of sailors who take 
money there or, in fact, anjwhere else, with them, is very 
small. And one must have clothes. And Liverpool, with all 

the cheat and cabbage of captain and tailor, is a place where 
seamen’s clothing can be obtained at fair rates, and of excel- 
lent quality. So that Jack, after working himself up to a 
state of most desperate stubbornness, and swearing fearful oaths 
that he will not be cheated, quietly walks up, and allows him- 
self to be made cabbage of in the most approved style. And 

then he is called a spendthrift and a vagabond fellow, and the 
tailor, who pocketed a percentage on his hard-earned five dol- 
lars on Saturday night, on Sabbath morning points him out 
to his children as an object of disgust and contempt. This 
it is to be a sailor. 



CHAPTER VII. 


Departuj'e from Liverpool — Passengers — Their ?node of life on board ship — Philadelphia — 
Ship for London — Seamen s protection. 



GOING ON BOARD. 


constructed berths, and we were 


MERICAN vessels gren- 


erally carry away from 
Liverpool, as return cargo, 
railroad iron, cotton prints, 
crockery, soda, etc., and pas- 
sengers. This was our cargo. 
No sooner was our cotton 
and ballast out, than we be- 
gan to take in our return 
cargo of railroad iron and 
crates of crockery ware. With 
this, and a great number of 
water-casks, to supply the 
passengers with drinking 
water, the lower hold was 
filled. The between decks, 
or steerage, was then fitted 
up with two rows of hastily 
ready to take our departure. 


We were to take one hundred and fifty passengers, who 


DEPARTURE FROM LIVERPOOL. 


75 


came on board the morning on which we went out of dock. 
They were all Irish, and a tolerably rough-looking set, but 
withal having about them that thoroughgoing Irish character- 
istic of being ready to lend a helping hand wherever there 
was work going on. 

We lay over night in the river, as the wind was dead 
ahead to go out. Next morning, when we were about to weigh 
anchor, the windlass was manned for us by a party of passen- 
gers, who made but one demand — viz., to sing for them some 
sailor songs. Accordingly our chanty-m2C(\ was called for. 

Said he, “ Now, just wait. I’ll set all the men and women 
crying before you know it.” 

He struck up, to a rather slow and plaintive tune, an old 
capstan song, which begins as follows : 

‘‘We’re going away from friends and home, 

Chorus — Oh sailors, where are you bound to ? 

We’re going away to hunt for gold. 

Chorus — Across the briny ocean. 

Father and mother say good-by, ^ 

Chorus — Sailors, where are you bound to 

Oh sisters, brothers, don’t you cry. 

Chorus — Across the briny ocean.” 

They had come up on deck laughing and talking, but the 
first two stanzas of this plaintive old song had not been sung, 
when all the women had their aprons to their eyes, and the 
men were not long in following suit, the fellows who had manned 
the windlass dropping the brakes, and sobbing like children. It 


76 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


was rather cruel sport, I thought, yet I would scarcely have be- 
lieved that they would have been so easily affected. 

We had to pay for our fun by heaving the anchor up our- 
selves, and were glad to start up a more cheerful tune, to win 
Paddy back to his usual bright spirits. 

For the first week out, it being late in the fall, we expe- 
rienced rough weather, and our passengers suffered dreadfully with 
sea-sickness. Living in a crowded and mi.serably dirty hole, the 
stench arising from which was enough to make any one sick, 
half frightened out of their wits at what they supposed to be 
the imminently dangerous situation of the vessel, it was a won- 
der that many of them did not die. 

For eight or ten days they showed themselves but little 
on deck, but lay in their berths day and night, muttering 
prayers for a safe deliverance from the dangers of the sea. 
But little cooking was done by them, and their meagre allow- 
ance' was mostly wasted or thrown away. And upon a return 
of fine weather, men who, when we left port, were stout and 
hearty, came up, looking as though just arisen from a long 
sick-bed. 

Once cured of their sickness, they grew ravenously hungry, 
and besieged their scantily furnished cooking range night and 
day, to get a chance to make themselves a warm mess. Poor 
souls, many of them lived on hard bread and raw meat the 
greater part of the passage, and paid dearly enough in the 
misery they suffered for the riches which they all expected to 
gain on this side the Atlantic. 

The greater portion of them entertained the wildest con- 


PASSENGERS. 


77 


ceptions of the country they were about' to make their home. 
Few of them had any definite ideas of the relative situations of 
different States. Some thought the United States to be the 
name of a very large city in Ameriky, and asked if it was as 
large as Liverpool or London. Others had come on board firmly 
convinced that our passage could not possibly last more than 
ten or twelve days. Several asked if, of a truth, there was in 
Ameriky a Gold Street ; and judging from the ignorance they 
displayed, there is no good reason to doubt the truth of the 
story told of a newly arrived Irishman, who, going up the wharf, 
saw a silver dollar lying in his path, but, spurning it contemptu- 
ously with his foot, refused to pick it up, saying, “ I’ll wait till 
I get to Gold Street, and pick up none but the yellow boys.” 

The accommodation for deck passengers, even on the best 
packet ships, are of the poorest kind. There are no rooms or 
divisions, the entire steerage being in one large apartment. 
There can, therefore, be no privacy at all. The bunks, or berths» 
are made very large, and from six to ten persons sleep in 
each, men, women, and children pigging in together. 

As accommodations for cooking purposes for one hundred 
and fifty persons, we had two ranges, capable each of holding not 
over four small kettles. Many, therefore, never had a mouth- 
ful of warm victuals from day to day. All other accommodations 
are on the same scale. 

Low as is the passage price, many find it beyond their 
means, and scarcely a vessel leaves Liverpool for the United 
States that has not on board some stowaways. Careful search 
is always made when about to sail, but there are many hiding- 


78 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


places where they eannot be readily found. With us, one man, 
who had only means suffieient to pay his own passage, but 
had -his wife to take along, actually put her into a large chest, 
in whieh she was brought on board, remaining in this conceal- 
ment till we were fairly out at sea. 

Then the implicit confidence with which these people 
venture upon a strange land, without means or friends, always 
seemed to me a matter for surprise. There were some among 
our passengers that had not actually enough cash to support 
them the first week after their landing. I overlooked one 

day five men, two of whom were married, eounting over their 
means, and among the entire party they could muster but twenty- 
six English shillings, a little over six dollars. But enough 
of passengers. 

We arrived at Philadelphia, after a tedious passage of 
fifty-four days. The snow was on the ground, and we found 
the weather bitter cold coming up the Delaware. This was the 
first time for more than three years that I had seen snow or 
felt cold like this, and I speedily determined that an India- 
man would be my ship, could one be found in Philadelphia. 

As soon as the ship was made fast to the wharf we 
left her. I was the only one of the crew who came out in 
her from Boston, and found myself now feeling quite sorrowful 
at leaving the old craft, in which I had spent nine months, 
on the whole very pleasantly. Yet, thus goes the sailor’s life. 
He cannot even centre his affections upon a vessel. A vaga- 
bond upon the face of the earth, he is continually breaking off 
all ties whieh threaten to bind him down to steadier habits. 


THE CLOSE OF THE VOYAGE. 


79 


So, even while I experienced most strongly the feeling of 
reluctance at leaving the good old craft which had been so 
long my home, and the officers, whom long acquaintance and 
brotherhood in many trials and dangers had given a strong hold 
on my regards, the pressing offer which I received to “stay, and 
go on another voyage, ” was unhesitatingly refused by me. It 
would not be seamanlike, I thought. 

We, the crew, having been now some six months together, 
felt unwilling to part just here, and had agreed therefore to take 
the same boarding-house. For a few days we enjoyed a degree 
of comfort to which we had long been strangers. Then came the 
search for ships, the pressing need, accompanied by a dread of the 
sufferings which are the inevitable portion of poof Jack, when he 
gets caught on the American coast, in winter. 

Now not a few wished that they could stay ashore, to 
escape the frozen fingers and toes, the ice and snow, and the 
keen north-westers, which chill the very marrow in one’s bones, 
on a winter passage, that most terrible ordeal the sailor passes 
through. But there is no escape. Ship you must, for they are 
already beginning to sing : 

So get up, Jack, let John sit down, 

For you know you’re outward bound — 

You know you’re outward bound.” 

Coming in one day to dinner, I found that a shipmate of 
mine had engaged in a little brigantine, bound to London. 

“Come, boys,” said he; “she wants two more hands; go 
down and take a look at her, and then sign the articles.” 


8o 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


“ I wouldn’t go into the British Channel in winter for all 
the gold in California, ” said an old tar at the head of the 
table. 

“ She’s a little craft, and you’ll not have to keep the blue 
pigeon going.” 

“ Don’t you believe it ; you’ll cast the lead every bit of 
the way from the Downs to Gravesend, and perhaps clear to 
London.” 

“ Well, who cares, it’s all in a voyage ; and at any rate 
she’s a snug little craft, and her crew will be able to handle 
her like a top.” 

Now, I had often heard of the sufferings incidental to 
a winter passage across the Atlantic, and knew the British 
Channel to be one of the most trying and uncomfortablci spots, 
for winter navigation, that is to be found within the temperate 
zone. There was, therefore, adventure in the voyage, some new 
experiences to make — and as to sufferings, I consoled myself 
with the reflection that if my shipmates could stand them, I 
could do as well. I therefore determined within my own mind, 
if the vessel looked likely or comfortable, at once to ship in 
her. 

Going down to the wharf, I found her to be a diminu- 
tive brigantine, of not above one hundred and sixty tons 
burden, a strange-looking vessel wherein to hazard a winter 
voyage to Europe. She was to carry four hands before the 
mast, the captain, mate, and cook — seven, all told. The mate 
was shovelling snow off the decks as I went on board. Said 
I to him, “Do you think, sir, she’ll ever get to London.^” 


SEAMEN’S PROTECTIONS. 


8l 


“ I am going there in her, my lad,” was the laconic answer ; 
and saying to my shipmate that I would also, I got my Pro- 
tection, went to the shipping office and signed the articles of 
the brigantine Belize, “ bound from Philadelphia to London, 
and such port or ports up the Mediterranean as the captain 
may determine on, and back to a port of discharge, in the 
United States.” 

An American vessel bound to a foreign port is obliged 
to carry a certain proportion (two thirds) of American seamen. 
Every American seaman, in order to be entitled to the rights 
and privileges peculiar to that class, must be furnished with a 
Protection, an instrument obtainable at any of the United States 
Custom Houses, upon bringing forward substantial evidence 
that the individual is an American, either born or naturalized. 
Here is the form of a Protection ; 

TJie United States of America. 

No. 

I , Collector of the District and Port of , do here- 
by certify that an American seaman, aged — years, or 

thereabouts, of the height of — feet — inches, complexion, 

hair, eyes, born in , has this day produced to me 

proof in the manner directed by the Act entitled “An Act 
for the Relief and Protection of American Seamen,” and pur- 
suant to said Act, I do hereby certify that the said is a 

citizen of the United States of America. 

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal 
of office, at ^ this — day of . 

Collector. 


82 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


This Protection, for which the charge of twenty-five cents 
is made at the Custom House, is placed in the captain’s pos- 
session, on signing the articles, as he is obliged to exhibit a 

certain number of them at the Custom House before he can 

get his clearance. Protections are very often manufactured, 

much as American citizens are said to be made to order on 

t 

the eve of an election, and some shipping officers keep quite 
an assortment on hand, in order that a ship may not be 
detained for the want of American seamen. Thus, in emer- 
gencies, they are able to ship men of any nation, merely 
obliging them to take the names which are on the Protections 
they happen to have on hand. 

An American Protection is of little value to the seaman, 
e.xcept in cases where he is wrecked, or left sick or destitute 
in a foreign port, when it gives him a claim on the American 
Consul, who is obliged to provide for him, and send him home 
if he desires it. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

^hip for London — The vessel— A winter passage across the Atlantic — Its hardships — 
The English Cha7inel. 

W HEN I announced to my shipmates that I was going in 

the little brigantine, they looked at me with dismay. , It 

then for the first time leaked out that there was a general 

impression among them that she never would reach London ; 

that being so small, and old, as well as deeply laden, she was 

likely to founder in the tremendous gales which sweep the 

Atlantic in the months of January and February. 

This was not pleasant news for me, but, like much ill- 

tidings, it came too late. I had signed the articles, and a 

0 

seaman’s pride would have forbidden me to back out from 
the danger now, even though she were sure to go down. I 
took occasion, however, on my next visit to the brig, to 
mention to her imperturbable mate what was said of the vessel. 
Said he, "Are you married.?” '' 

“No, sir.” 

“Well, I have a wife and three little ones, down on the 
■Cape, and / am going to London in the Belize.” 

There was no answering a clincher like that, and I was con- 
tent to take what comfort I could out of the reflection that my 
-loss would be my loss alone. 


84 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


The second of January was appointed for our sailing day. 
It was an intensely cold morning when I put my chest and 
hammock into a wagon, to be taken to the ship, and taking a 
last lingering look at the cosey fire, walked down to the wharf, 
accompanied by several old shipmates, whom regard prompted to 
see me off. It was my first voyage as seaman. I had shipped 
the previous voyage as boy, but had been allowed seaman’s 
wages by the captain for part of the time, and, what gratified me 
far more than the additional salary, had received from the mate, 
on leaving, a hearty written recommendation as able seaman. 
As we walked down, I received some good advice from one- 
of my old shipmates, concluding with : 

“ Now, Charley, this is your first voyage as seaman, and you 
must not let any one go before you. Wherever there’s duty,, 
there’s likely to be danger, boy, and wherever there’s danger, 
there do you be first.” 

A tight grasp of the hand, and a hearty “ God bless you and 
keep you, boy,” from my shipmates, and I leaped on board the 
vessel, she was cast off, and we slowly wound down the river, 
before a light breeze. 

I do not remember ever to have felt it so terribly cold as it 

was that morning. The Delaware was rapidly freezing over, and 

we drifted down with the tide, through cakes of ice every moment 

getting harder and more impenetrable. When a few miles below 

% 

the city, the breeze freshened, and as the little craft danced over 
the waves, every wave increased the mass of ice that was gather- 
ing about her head. The spray, which flew freely in over the- 
bows, froze hard before it reached the deck, and we who were- 


OFF FOR LONDON 


85 




•securing the anchors for sea were soon incased in ice, yet with- 
out being wet through, as we should have been had it been 
less cold. 

It was utterly impossible to keep any part of the body even 
moderately warm, and feet and hands were shortly quite numb 
and sensationless. It is always colder on fresh water than on 
salt, and as we neared the bay, and got into the sea tide, there 
was a slight although quite perceptible change in the tempera- 
ture. 

As we approached the ocean, the breeze freshened to a gale, 
and we took occasion, on running in behind the . breakwater, 
to land the pilot, to single reef our stiff and all new cotton fore- 
topsail, and also reef the foresail and mainsail. For the latter 
sail, howev'^er, we had but little use thereafter, as the gale, which 
blew from west-north-west, was very nearly aft, and the foretop- 
sail and foresail were the only sails we could carry under' such 
circumstances. 

While aloft, reefing, we looked with sinking hearts upon the 
mountain billows whose white heads were wildly breaking upon 
the beach outside, and the sullen roar of the sea seemed to 
warn us not to tempt its power. 

The pilot landed (oh, how I envied him), the sails reefed 
and hoisted, and everything double secured about decks, we 
wore round and stood out past Cape Henlopen. As we rounded 
the point of the breakwater, which had protected us, a huge 
wave struck the vessel, and came crashing over the bows, delug- 
ing the deck, and sweeping all before it, until it found its way 
•out at the stern. 


86 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


With that wave went the last vestige of dryness, the only 
kind of comfort there is on board ship in cold weather, for 
the entire passage. From that time, for thirty days and nights,, 
not one of the crew had on a dry stitch of clothing. 

I had heard before of bathing-tubs, had been told of mak- 
ing an entire passage under water, but looked upon such 
yarns as rather tough — somewhat highly colored. But the ex- 
perience of this passage left us no longer room to doubt the 
possibility of a yessel making her way through and under the 
water. From the time the first wave struck till we entered 
the English Channel a continual succession of seas swept our 
decks, one following upon top of the other, until we have actually 
seen waves come on board in a solid body over ten feet high, 
sweep across the deck like a vast sea-green avalanche, and roll 
put over the bow. 

Fortunately our rail, or bulwark, was very low, and the 
water had as free egress as ingress, else would all the stanchions 
have been swept away by the force of the body of water 
which was continually washing from one si*de to the other of 
the deck as she rolled; 

It was just at one o’clock of the second day after leaving 
Philadelphia, that we took this launch into the stormy Atlantic.. 
Judging that we should experience some rough weather, every- 
thing about decks, such as boat, water-casks, and galley, had 

been doubly and even trebly fastened. With the same view 

to security, we had bent new sails, with new robands, had 
doubly clinched the tackles, sheets, buntlines, and clewlines, that 
no piece of gear might get adrift perhaps at the very time 


A IVINTER PASSAGE. 


87 


we should need it most. We had furled the topgallantsail and 
gafftopsail, and wound each sail about with gaskets enough to 
make fast a seventy-four’s topsail. We had even lashed the 
chain cable, a portion of which was stowed upon deck. 

But what can stand before the fury of such a blast as that 
before which we were driving — what resist the impetuous force 
of the mountains of water which rolled, and tumbled, and broke 
over our decks continually ? 

On the very first night out, in the mid-watch, while I was at 
the helm, a sea crashed on deck, just forward of the main rig- 
ging, and falling upon the large boat which lay, bottom up, 
upon the main hatchway, crushed her as completely as though 
men with axes had stove her to pieces. 

In the morning watch, our foresail split and blew from 
the yard, not a sign of it being left, even the reef, which was 
fast to the yard, gradually going, strip by strip. 

On the second morning, we found our topgallantsail blown 
out of the gaskets. On the next night an unusually large sea 
boarded us, tore two large water-casks from their lashings, and 
carried them clear over the rail. 

We had, ere this, made our little galley fast to every bolt, 
stanchion, mast, and rigging, that could possibly be connected 
with it by a rope, and this multiplied precaution was the only 
means of saving it. But with this exception, and two water- 
casks lashed aft near the taflfrail, where the seas did not come 
on board with such fury, there was not left, when we were 
three days out, a single movable object about decks, and every- 
thing that could be blown away aloft was likewise gone. 


88 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


No one who has not seen and felt it can imagine the 
searching power of the wind in a gale like this. It no longer 
gives way, but carries all before it with resistless sway. It be- . 
comes something tangible, a force which you feel, as though a 
heavy body struck you. It is even impossible to draw a breath 
when looking to windward, and to make progress against it 
along decks, it is necessary to draw one’s self along by the 
bulwark, or life lines. 

Of course the forecastle and cabin hatchways were kept 

closed, as the least carelessness in that particular might have 

filled these places with a sea, drowning the inmates in their 

« 

berths. When the watch came on deck they were obliged to 
look out for a comparatively smooth interval, and then darting 
quickly out of the little scuttle, shut and bolt it down. Be- 
fore they got aft a sea would overwhelm them, out of which 
they would emerge, gasping for breath, half drowned, and 
dripping. Not unfrequently we were obliged to make ourselves 
fast to ropes stretched along from aft to the forecastle, and 
let those abaft pull us along through the water. 

The natural heat of the system drying on us the salt 
water incased our bodies in a crust of salt, which rubbed and 
chafed, and eat into the tender skin, making us all over sores. 
The waves continually dashing into our faces half blinded us, 
and the salt drying on around the eyelids made painful swell- 
ings about those susceptible parts. 

To add to our troubles, already sufficiently .great, on the 
second night out our vessel sprung a leak, and from that time 
till we anchored in the Downs loc 7icver left the fumps. The 


JANUARY DISCOMFORTS. 


89 


brig steered badly, and steering a vessel under such circum- 
stances is at best a most disagreeable labor, since the lives of all 
on board, and the safety of the vessel, depend in a great measure 
on the watchful , vigilance of the helmsman. A turn of the 
helm the wrong way, or the neglect to meet her quickly, as 
some vast wave swings the little craft half round, and she 
broaches to the wind, and to broach-to in such a gale at sea 
is certain destruction. 

Almost every minute a wave bounces over the rail and 
dashes the poor helmsman forcibly against the wheel, to which 
he clings for dear life, until the green mass of water passes 
and leaves him half drowned, to twist at the stubboni helm, 
and keep the vessel in her course. So severe was the toil of 
steering, that I have many a time stood, on the cold January 
nights, in my shirt-sleeves, dripping with the sea water, and 
yet with the perspiration breaking out on my face and arms, 
and all the upper part of my body in a glow of heat. 

Our hands, with the continual grasping of wheel, or pump- 
break, or rope, and the constant wetness, were raw inside and 
■out, and left their marks in blood on everything they touched. 
Then, when the two hours’ trick at the wheel was over, the 
worn-out helmsman must go to the pump, where, lashing him- 
self to the mainmast to keep from being borne overboard by 
the seas, he pumps another weary two hours, occasionally 
spelled, or relieved, by the captain or mate. 

But it was in our feet we suffered most. Arms and body, 
though sore and suffering, received a sufficiency of violent ex- 
ercise to keep up a healthy circulation of the blood, while our 


90 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


feet were moved but little, and after being for four hours im- 
mersed in the ice-cold water, were entirely sensationless, mere 
appendages, without the power of motion, and feeling as though 
tightly cased in ice. 

Many times have I on going below seen my solitary^ 
watch-mate (for there were only two in each watch) pulling 
off his boots in full confidence that he would find his feet 
enveloped in ice. And often was I myself certain that this- 

time my poor feet must be solidly frozen. 

This was our life on deck. Below it' was but little better,, 
although we were glad enough to get to a shelter from the 

sharp winds, which was the only way in which the forecastle 
was of any benefit to us. Notwithstanding our most ingenious 
devices to keep out the water, in order that we might have 
at least one little dry spot left, it poured in at every seam of 
the upper deck. On the floor the water stood (or rather 
rolled, for nothing stood) at least six inches deep continually. 

Our bunks were half afloat, blankets were wrung out every 

watch, and mattresses were mere mouldy masses of wet and 
rotting straw. 

Sitting in a little shower-bath upon our chests, we would 
first pull off very carefully and gingerly the boots and stock- 
ings from our frozen feet. The operation of gradually stripping 
off the stockings used to seem to me like peeling off the 
skin, so tender were the benumbed limbs. Stockings, wrung out, 
were hung upon a nail in readiness to be resumed at the end 
of the four hours. Trousers and shirts were now submitted to a 
similar process of wringing out and hanging up, and then each 


A LEAKY VESSEL. 


91 


turned naked into his berth to get warm and doze off to- 
sleep. 

But the getting a little warm was a torture. As the blood 
returned to the long-feelingless feet, it would seem as though 
small veins or streams of hot lead were being poured over 
various portions of the limbs. Amid groans of pain, the sufferer 
puts his hands down to ascertain whether the returning circu- 
lation has not bursted open his foot, so acute are the sensa- 
tions consequent upon a renewal of feeling. 

After a succession of attempts to make all snug, the ex- 
hausted body at last sinks into a slumber, from which it is 
awakened at the expiration of the watch, and called to turn 
out of the now warm and at last comfortable steaming bed- 

place, and relieve his shipmates at steering and pumping. 

• « 

On getting up we would be steaming, literally, the warmth 
of our bodies turning the moisture of the bedding into vapor. 
The cold, wet clothing pulled off and wrung out at the com- 
mencement of the watch was now resumed, the wet stockings 
were once more put inside of the wetter boots, the sow-zvester 
securely fastened under the chin, and, shivering and miserable, 
we crawled up the ladder to wait for a favorable moment when 
to issue on deck and run aft. . 

To add still to our troubles, when it blew the hardest it 
was found impossible to keep the vessel free by means of con- 
stant pumping, and I yet recall the sinking of jdespair with which, 
on some of the very worst days and nights of the trip, we were 
wakened up long before the expiration of our watch below, to 
aid in pumping, and try to keep the water under. For three 


■92 


THE MERCHANT FES SET. 


long days and nights, at one time, she was gradually sinking 
under us, our most strenuous efforts at the pumps to the 
contrary notwithstanding. 

On sounding the pump-well, at the expiration of a watch, we 
would find that, in spite of our efforts, the water had gained upon 
us several inches. We fought it inch by inch, hoping for more 
moderate weather, which was the only thing that could save us. 
Yet our labor was performed not with the energy of persons 
working for something they would like to save. It was more as 
a matter of duty to the vessel and her owners. For so much 
had we suffered with wet and cold, that we had begun to look 
upon our now probable fate as, at any rate, a relief froiji misery 
too great to be borne much longer. Any change was welcome. 

Strange feelings come over one at such times. In our dozing 
down below (for to sleep had become impossible, and one simply 
dozed off into a state of semi-unconsciousness), we used to dream 
of home and of the old times long past when we were children 
there. Retiring to our wet berths, unknowing whether we should 
ever rise from them again, we would return to full consciousness 
at the calling of the watch, half surprised, half sorry that the final 
catastrophe was not yet — that another four hours of tht battle must 
be waged before we finally succumbed. 

We began to think it would be as well, and much more 
comfortable, to 'remain in our berths, and await the sure fate. It 
would but hasten it a little. But duty forbade. And there is, 
after all, a faint, lingering spark of hope, which seems never to 
leave man, or, at any rate, the sailor, until he is totally over- 
whelmed ; and this, too, urged us to the pumps. 












s, 


LONDON 




A SQUALL. 


93 


Yet we grew careless of the event. Day by day we went to 
our berths, not knowing but we were closing our eyes for the last 
time — sleeping to wake no more. Watch after watch we went on 
deck expecting each four hours to be the last, until, erelong, we 
had grown used to the feeling, and suffered silently on, thinking 
as little as might be of that to which all had now resigned 
themselves. 

Cooking, for a great part of the passage, was out of the 
question. A pot of hot coffee was a luxury not attainable every 
day, and as for preparing anything else, it was vain to think of it. 
So, the cook took his turn at the pumps with the rest, and 
nursed his cold toes the balance of the time. 

The water stood three feet deep in the hold, and was still 
slowly gaining on us, when at last the weather moderated a little, 
and the wind gradually dying down, gave us nearly an entire day 
(a Sabbath) of calm. But although the gale had gone down, the 
sea was rolling mountains high, and with the exception of being 
able, by pumping hard all day, to free the vessel of water, we were 
but little better off than before. 

“We shall pay for it before forty-eight hours,” said the 
mate, as we were congratulating ourselves on the favorable 
change. 

And sure enough, before the night was over we had seen 
the wildest weather of all the passage. 

About two in the afternoon an intensely black cloud began 
to rise in the west, slowly spreading until it covered all the 
western horizon, from north to south, with a pall of inky dark- 
ness. It did not move — there seemed no life in it. But it grew 


■94 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


almost imperceptibly larger, until, at sunset, the entire firmament 
was one impenetrable black mass, and the darkness seemed fairly 
tangible. 

We had taken in the sails, loosed during the day (having 
taken advantage of the calm to bend another foresail), and were 
now, at dark, lying under a single-reefed foretopsail waiting for 
the storm which we knew was suspended overhead. 

The wind had entirely died away before dark, not a breath 
of air being perceptible, and except the dull roar of the sea 
and the heavy sug of our vessel as she pitched into it, all was 
still. Every man was on deck, for we felt there would soon be 
work enough for us to do. 

In the pitchy darkness we could not see a rope, or distin- 
guish each other, although touching. The captain had brought 
a large lantern on deck, and was standing on the chain cable, 
near the helmsman, ready to light us, should it be necessary to 
get a pull at anything. 

Now there is a low sigh of wind over the water. 

“ Put your helm hard to starboard,” says the captain, “ and 
try to get her before it.” 

Now a louder blast, succeeded by one yet fiercer, and then 
with an intensely brilliant flash of lightning and a burst of 
thunder as though the heavens were fent in twain, the gale was 
upon us. 

“ Clew down your foretopsail, let go the halyards,” shouted 
-the captain. 

But too late. The bellying sail would not come down, 
•and the brig fairly stood upon end for a moment as the whole 


THE THAMES. 







} 


■7 


CORPOSANTS. 


97 


impetus of the gale struck her, then burying her bows, clear to 
the foremast, in an immense sea, she forged ahead, staggering 
like .an animal that has been struck a heavy blow upon the head. 
The wind shrieked wildly as it rushed by us, the hail drove down 
upon us in torrents, leaving its marks wherever it struck upon 
our persons. While pulling at the foretopsail clewline, a hail- 
stone struck me on the hand and tore off a piece of skin as 
large as half a dollar. Several were wounded in the same way. 

The captain called to all to come aft. Suddenly we noticed 
upon the masthead and at each yard-arm small blue flames, 
dancing like evil spirits hither and thither upon the wind. It 
was the “ corposant,” so called by seamen, often the precursor, 
sometimes the accompaniment of a violent storm, an electrical 
appearance, generally attaching itself to the irons on the extrem- 
ities of the masts and yards, the pale and ghastly light darting 
about fitfully as the breeze catches it. 

There is a superstitious belief among seamen, that he upon 
whom a corposant has shone will die befoi'e the expiration of 
the vovage. 

j o 

A still stranger phenomenon drew our attention from the 
appearances upon the yards. Our brig had double mainstays, 
two large ropes running from the mainmasthead to the deck 
at the foot of the foremast. Down between these stays, which 
were some si.x inches apart, now rolled what appeared to us a 
ball of liquid fire, somewhat resembling a red-hot sixty-eight- 
pound shot. When yet some ten feet from the deck, the chain 
cable, stretched along under the stay, seemed to attract it ; it 
fell upon it, and with a sharp, hissing noise flew into hundreds 


98 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


of pieces, the greater portion running aft along the line of 

chain. 

The captain, who was standing with one foot upon this 
cable, was struck by the electric current and transfixed, im- 
movable for a few minutes. Every pane of glass in the large 
lantern he held in his hand was broken. The man at the 
wheel was rendered entirely helpless for some time, having to 
be carried from his post. Whether, as some of the crew 
asserted, this appearance was accompanied by a loud clap of 
thunder or not, I would not dare to say, for so much was 
I taken up with the meteoric fire-ball, that had the heavens 
burst with thunder I should not have known it. 

The violent hail, which lasted perhaps three quarters of an 
hour, had the effect of beating down the sea, so that even at 
the height of the squall we were sailing through compara- 
tively smooth water. 

The first blast over, and our old gale returned, with the 

same rolling, the same continual shipping of seas, the same 

tiresome labor at the pumps. We still ran before it, although 
we overtook large ships hove-to. Our captain would not 
heave-to — partly as he was actually afraid when the gale was 
at its height to bring so small a vessel to the wind, and 


partly because he was anxious to get across. 

On the twentieth night out, she broached-to with us. This 
is a most dangerous accident, and not unfrequently occasions 
the loss of a vessel. Fortunately we had but a rag of canvas, 
the close-reefed foretopsail, set, and in the moment of her 
cominof violently to the wind the braces were let go by the 


{.ONDON DOCICS. 





\ 


\ 


f 




,< 

i 

< 


A 


i 


BJ^OA CHING- TO, 


lOI 


mate, so that the yards swung, and did not allow the sail to 
get aback. (By broaching-to is meant the act of a vessel 

which has been going before the wind turning violently about, 

and bringing the sails aback. Many a good ship, running under 

* 

a press of canvas, has been sent down stern foremost b\' 
broaching-to.) As our vessel lay in the trough of the sea for 
a few minutes, the decks, fore and aft, were entirely covered 
with an enormous wave, which boarded her in a body, and 
threatened to send us all to the bottom. Here our low rail 
was again useful, the brig being able to clear herself much 

•quicker of the body of water than had she had higher bul- 
warks. Yet it was for some minutes ereen all around and 
over us, and we began to think we were going under. The 
helm had been put down in the moment of her broaching-to, 
and she had sufficient headway to mind it, and gradually came 

up to the wind, lying across the trough of the sea, and clear- 

inof her decks in a p^reat measure of the water. Havins^ her 
once hove-to, it was exceedingly dangerous to keep off before 
it again, until it should moderate, as we would once more be 
exposed to the danger of being boarded by some mountain 
wave, and perhaps having our decks swept. It was therefore 
determined to lie-to under a close-reefed fore-spencer. 

The topsail was clewed up, and after an hours hard tug- 
ging at it we succeeded in furling it. We were now relieved 
from the toil of steering, as the helm is lashed down, and had 
consequently double force at the pumps. But our troubles 
were soon to recommence. We had just gone below to get 
some breakfast, after having been up nearly all night getting 


102 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


her snug, when the fore-spencer blew away. As it was neces- 
sary to have some sail on her, we set the storm foretopmast 
staysail and a little corner of the mainsail. Before an hour 
the foretopmast staysail flew away, and the force of the main- 
sail suddenly brought to bear on the stern brought her head 
to the wind and sea. An immense billow lifted up her bow, and 
for a moment she stood upon her stern, all hands thinking 
she would go down stern foremost — in the next she seemed 
to slide off the mountain of water, and we lay-to on the 
other tack, having been thrown by the sea from one tack to* 
the other. We quickly hauled down the mainsail, and set a 
small tarpaulin in the main rigging, and under this lay-to 
securely until the gale had abated somewhat. 

Yet ten days of pumping and steering, and the numerous, 
vessels coming in view, as well as the the dense fogs, pro- 
claimed the vicinity of land. As we entered the mouth of the 
British Channel the gale decreased, but the weather was muck 
more uncomfortable, on account of its dampness; and as we- 
kept watch at night in our salt-water-soaked clothing, I felt 
sometimes as though the marrow was congealing in my bones. 
With a fair breeze on the next day after entering the Channel 
we got up to Beachy Head, where we lay becalmed for an 
afternoon, anxiously peering through the fog for a pilot-boat.. 
While lying here, a steamer passed us on her ‘way up. It 
seemed hard to us, as she paddled past, to think that she would 
be in London probably that night yet, while we might, should 
we take a head-wind, beat about there for a week, and, after all,. 
p*o ashore on some of the Enp-Hsh cliffs. I never before so> 


THE THAMES. 





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THE BRITISH CHANNEL. 


105 


badly wished myself out of any scrape, and determined, as indeed 
did all the erew, that if we once got the crazy old brig safely 
to London, incontinently to leave her there. 

That night we got a little farther ahead, and in the mid- 
watch fortunately got a Dungeness or deep-sea pilot, as these are 
called, in contradistinction to the river men, who are known as 
mud pilots. This was an immense relief to us, as our captain, 
who had never before made a foreign voyage, was totally unac- 
quainted with the Channel, and had, for the last two days, been 
chasing every vessel that hove in sight, to find out our where- 
abouts, the constant fogs preventing him from getting an obser- 
vation. 

We ran into the Downs, and there anchored until the tide 
should serve, as, when the breeze arose, it was dead ahead, giving 
us a prospect of beating all the way up to Gravesend, the real 
entrance to the river Thames, and the port of the city of 
London. 

The deep-sea pilots in, the English Channel are a peculiar 
set. More thoroughgoing seamen, in all that pertains to the 
management of a vessel, or more competent and trustworthy 
men in their profession, are probably, nowhere to be found. 
They are under the control of a naval board, called the Trinity 
Chapter, who appear to have under their charge the entire 
British Channel, or at least all in and about the English side 
of it, that pertains to the safety of shipping. 

Very strict rules are laid down for the pilots, in regard 
to the management of the vessels placed under their charge, 
such as placing a, single reef in the topsails every time a 


io6 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


vessel comes to anchor, during the winter season, paying out 
a certain amount of cable, keeping anchor-watch, and various 
other matters. As vessels work tide work in beating up 
channel — that is, get under weigh with every favoring tide, and 
come to anchor when it turns, this occasions no small addition 
to the labor, already sufficiently great, of making short tacks 
keeping the lead constantly going, and the frequent weighing 
anchor. 

With our dull-sailing and deep-loaded craft, we were three 
days and nights beating up to Gravesend, a time during which 
we got but little sleep, and although perhaps, on the whole, 
less uncomfortable than during the previous portions of our' 
passage, were almost continually on deck, exposed to the damp 
air, and handling wet ropes, heaving the lead when the line 
froze as we hauled it in, and working with muddy chains and 
anchors. 

Passing the buoy at the Nore, whose miserable fate has 
been so comically lamented by Hood, and which marks the 
scene of the great mutiny, when England’s wmoden walls had 
nearly been turned against her, we finally reached Gravesend. 
Having brought us to anchor here, our pilot’s office ceased, 
and he went ashore. 

The brig was now thoroughly searched by custom-house 
officers, one of whom remained on board until the cargo w^as 
out. We had been hailed times without number, on our 
passage up, by tow-boats desirous to take us up to London, 
whieh would have relieved the crew of an immense deal of 
severe labor, besides materially expediting our progress; but our 



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Stingy Yankee skipper took counsel with his pocket, and 
“having the men to feed and pay at any rate,” as he said, to 
the pilot’s infinite disgust, preferred to beat up. 

We had now, however, arrived at the head of all such 
navigation as that. The Thames, from Gravesend to London, 
outdoes even the Mississippi in the number and acuteness of 
its turns, or reaches, as they are called, and but one class of 
vessels pretend to ' sail up from here. These are the colliers, 
the J Oldies, who, in their dirty-looking brigs (the brig is the 
favorite and only rig of a true Jordie collier-man) work up 
slowly from reach to reach, taking perhaps a week to make 
the distance from Gravesend to the city. 

These collier men are a peculiar set. Familiar from child- 
hood with all the intricacies of channel navigation, they work 
their way with singular dexterity through the immense fleet 
of shipping of all nations that at all times congregates here, 
often nearly blocking up the upper portion of the channel. 
They hold all manner of foreign vessels, or “ south Spainers,” 
in supreme contempt. Understanding perfectly their rights, and 
obstinately maintaining them, woe betide the unfortunate craft 
that misses stays, and, hanging in irons, remains an unmanageable 

impediment in Jordie’s lawful track. He will unhesitatingly 
poke his short, stout jibboom through your foresail, or into 
your cabin windows, and “ out of the way, you brass-bottomed 
booger,” * is all the apology you get. 


* In allusion to the copper on the bottoms of all foreign sailing vessels, but which 
is never seen on a collier. 


I lO 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 

Without the collier men, Londons river would be bereft 
of half its life, and all its fun, for in return for his crabbed 
spitefulness, everybody has a fling at Jordie; and happy he 
who does not come out second best, for either at billingsgate 
•or fisticuffs he is hard to beat. 

Being finally persuaded of the utter impossibility of beating 
up to London, our captain had to engage a steam-tug, which 
brought us up to our berth, in the herring tier, on the Surry 
side, in a very short time. Here we were hauled under an 
immense crane, and the hatches being opened, ten tierces of 
beef were hoisted out at once, the entire cargo being landed 
in little more than half a day. 


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CHAPTER IX. 


, Arrival m London — The docks — Sailors — The California ship — Singular instance of 
affectiofi in a serpent — What sailors see of London — Sail for Boston. 

W ITH the next tide we hauled into the St. Katherine’s 

dock, where we were to take in our return cargo. 

'The docks of London are altogether differently arranged from 
those in Liverpool. Here we were allowed to cook on board, 

but a light after eight o’clock at night was strictly forbidden. 
'The gates close at seven p.m., and open at seven a.m., 

and every one going out is strictly searched by the gate- 
keepers, not only to prevent the introduction of contraband 

articles, but also to prevent thieving on the part of the dock 

laborers and persons frequenting the shipping. No bundle of 
any kind is allowed to be carried out without a written permit 
from some person in authority. 

These strict regulations are rendered necessary on account 
•of the vast quantities of merchandise of all kinds stored up 

here. All around the docks are spacious warehouses from three 
to six stories high, where is deposited a portion of the goods 
brought here by shipping from all parts of the world. There 
•can be no more interesting sight in London than would be 
•obtained by a walk through these warehouses. He who has 


I 12 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


not visited them has no idea of the vast amount of wealth,, 
from all parts of the world, which is constantly accumulating 
here. The most precious commodities, which at home we see 
dribbled out by half ounces and drachms, are there found by 
the bale, and hogshead, and warehouseful. Here in two vast 
buildings is stored tea. In these vaults, extending for squares, 
underground, are wines. On this broad quay are piled immense 
tierces of tallow from icy Archangel, and by their side lies a 
vessel fragrant with all the spices of Araby the blest. Here 

is a four-story building, filled to overflowing with bales of 
cinnamon and sacks of nutmegs. The next seems the deposi- 
tory of all the indigo in the world. Here is hemp, and there 
is cotton ; yonder, bales of costly silks, and farther on, iron. 

There is no end to either the variety or quantity of goods- 
All possible and impossible things seem here brought in con- 

junction. 

But let us take a look at the shipping. No nation that, 
has a ship is unrepresented here — no part of the earth that 
has a seaport but may be visited from here at short notice. 

Archangel or the Cape of Good Hope, New York or Cal- 
cutta, China or California, St. Petersburg or the Guinea Coast,.. 
Valparaiso or Constantinople, whither will you go? Here are 
ships for all and many more. And this is only one of the 
smallest of her docks. Truly, he who visits London and does, 
not see her docks, misses one of the most interesting and in- 
•Structive of ■ her many sights. 

In a few days after entering the docks, we began to take 
in cargo for Boston. We had determined to leave the vessel,. 


VAULT AT INDIA DOCKS. 








« 


THE CALIFORNIA SHIP. 


1 15 

but found many sailors ready to take our places, and anxious 
for the chance even to work their passage, without pay, and 
therefore wisely concluded to hang on even to a sinking ship, 
as better than none at all. 

In the winter season sailors have hard times in London. 
Shipping is dull and men plenty, and very frequently large 
premiums are paid for chances to ship. Woe to the poor sailor 
who then finds himself ashore, without money or friends ! The 
landlord turns him out to starve or beg, and he sleeps on 
the street, or, worse yet, in the straiv-hotise provided for indi- 
gent sailors, where they may be seen, on cold winter evenings, 
cowering under the wretched litter, trying to forget their hunger 
and misery in sleep. And at meal-times gaunt, wasted forms 
hover about the forecastle, casting wistful glances at the plente- 
ous meal of the crew, or begging for pity’s sake for a morsel 
of bread and meat. 

Such scenes are but too frequent in the large ports of 
England, when commerce is not very brisk. We therefore gladly 
retained our places on board, hoping for better weather on the 
homeward passage. 

While we lay in the docks, a British vessel hauled in 
and lay alongside of us, to which a singular story of crime 
attached, which was at that time dinned into every one’s ears 
in London by the ballad-mongers, who found its horrors a fruit- 
ful source of pennies. The story, as I obtained it from her mate, 
was this : 

She had left San Francisco, bound for London, with no 
cargo, intending to procure a load of copper on the coast of 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


116 


Chili, but with nearly seventy-five thousand dollars, in gold dust 
and bars, in the lazerrete, under the cabin. The crew, unfortu- 
nately, knew of the presence of this treasure on board, and from 

t 

this ^rose the subsequent catastrophe. 

On the vessels first arrival at San Francisco, all her own 
crew had left her, and when again about to sail, the captain 
- was obliged to take such hands as he could get, principally 
coast-rangers, desperate characters, who perhaps did not ship in 
her without a purpose. 

All went on quietly until the vessel had reached the line, 
and was distant only some two or three days' sail from the 
Gallapagos Islands. At this time the carpenter, who was the 
only man of the crew who understood the art of navigating 
the vessel, was approached by one of the hands, with proposals 
to mutiny, kill the officers, take possession of the vessel and 
her treasure, and, scuttling the former when they got near land, 
leaving her for the coast of Peru, there to enjoy in peace 
their ill-gotten booty. . 

It appeared that they had doubted the carpenter, and had 
left him out of their counsels while the arrangement of the 
matter was pending. They now, only at the last moment pre- 
vious to the execution of their project, took him into their 
confidence, and presented to him the alternative to partake of 
the fate of the officers, or join them in good faith. Overcome 
by surprise and terror, he reluctantly submitted to become one 
of them. But they did not trust him out of their sight again, and 
that very night, in the mid-watch, while the ship was sailing along 
with a gentle breeze, their fell purpose was carried into effect 


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VIEW IN ONE OF THE GALLAPAGOS GROUP. 






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THE MURDER. 


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It was the mates watch on deck, and as he leaned drowsily 
against the mizzenmast, he was approached from behind by one 
of the mutineers, who buried an axe in his head and left him 
for dead. 

They now proceeded to get the captain out of his cabin. 
Throwing a large coil of rigging forcibly down on the poop 
deck was the means resorted to to gain their purpose. It 
succeeded, for scarce a minute had elapsed before the captain^s 
head appeared above the companion slide, as he asked what 
was meant by such noise. He had hardly uttered the question, 
when a blow upon the head with an iron belaying pin silenced 
him forever. The second mate was in like manner enticed on 
deck and murdered. 

The mutineers had now possession of the vessel. They 

made haste to pitch overboard the bodies of the murdered 

officers and clear away the gore which stained the deck, and 
then consulted as to what was next to be done. They con- 
cluded to alter their original plan, sail for the Gallapagos, and 
land there on one of the uninhabited islands, setting the ship 
on fire before they left her, and thus more securely destroy all 
trace of their crime. They would then divide their booty, and 
burying it, go in their boat to some one of the inhabited isles, 
in the guise of shipwrecked seamen, thus quieting all suspicions. 

This plan decided upon, the carpenter, who had been strictly 
guarded in the forecastle while the scene of murder was being 

acted, was called for. On approaching, he was sent to the 

wheel, with instructions to keep the vessel for the Gallapagos, 
and a threat of instant death in case of disobedience. 


120 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


The crew, consisting of ten hands, now proceeded into the 
cabin to hunt up the gold, which', found, was placed in con- 
venient sacks for carrying off. By this time daylight began to 
appear, and as the first excitement wore off, their breasts filled 
with remorse at what they had done. 

“ Liquor, liquor, boys,” said one ; “ let’s drink and be merry ; 
there’s no one to forbid.” The captain’s rum was produced, and 
ere noon, after a scene of uproarious jollity,, the mutineers lay 
upon the decks in drunken stupor. 

All this time, it must be remembered, the poor carpenter 
was steering the vessel. He had several times shouted to one 
or other his desire to be relieved, but in vain ; and when the 
drunken orgies began, he was not sorry to be at the helm, as 
this was sufficient excuse for not joining with them. 

The ten wretched men, after much drunken revelry, lay 
asleep upon the deck. Chips was alone on board, so far as the 
possession of his powers was concerned. And now a dreadful 
thought of vengeance for the fate of the basely assassinated cap- 
tain filled his soul. The mutineers were at his mercv — should 
he not in turn make way with them ? There was not a little fear 
that, arriving at their destination, and having no longer a neces- 
sity for him, they would make way with him, to prevent one 
who had been an unwilling and inactive looker-on in the fray 
from bringing the affair before the world. A proper regard for 
his own safety, therefore, also prompted the carpenter to take 
justice in his own hands. 

His mind was soon made up. Lashing the wheel in such 
manner that she would for some ‘time guide herself, he took a 


WHARF AT SAN FRANCISCO 






























THE RETRIBUTION. 


123 


survey of those who in the last few hours had sent their officers 
to their last accounts. 

“ I’ll do it — I must — I wUl',' said Chips. He went to his 
tool-chest standing on the half-deck, and took thence a large, 
sharp, glittering broad-axe. One after another, with this axe, he 
cut off ten heads, not stopping till the last headless trunk was 
struggling before him, and he was left the sole living person on 
board. 

Now he in turn eleared away, dragging the bodies to the 
gangway, and there threw them overboard — a tedious task. This 
done, and the blood-stained deck once more washed off, and 
he had time to think. He was alone on board a large 
vessel — no one but he to steer, to make or take in sail, or 
perform the multifarious duties incident to the sea, such as 
trimming the sails to the breeze, etc. His determination was 
soon taken. He let the topsails run down on the . caps, clewed 
up, and furled as well as he was able the topgallantsails and 
royals, and then lashing the helm amidships, so trimmed 
the forward and after sails, the jibs and spanker, as to make 
her move along without yawing too much. He had previously 
altered her course for the coast of Peru, and as the craft was 
in the track of vessels bound to the southward, and at 
but small distance from the Peruvian shore, he felt confident 
that the ship would be fallen in with by some strange vessel, 
or he would be able himself to take the ship into Callao, and 
there deliver her into the hands of the British Consul. 

What may have been his feelings when he found himself 
the sole occupant of the vessel, with every particular of the 


1 24 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


late tragedy fresh before him, the very blood-stains not yet off 
the decks, it would be useless to attempt to imagine. 

On the fifth morning after the mutiny, the ship was spoken 
by a British vessel just out of Callao, the captain of which 
sent on board two men to assist in working the craft, giving 
the carpenter likewise the course and distance to the harbor. In 
two days more he bad the satisfaction of bringing the vessel 
safely to anchor in Lorenzo Bay, where she was immediately 
placed in charge of the British Consul. 

The carpenter went home to England as passenger in 
another vessel, and was probably amply rewarded by the 
owneis for his faithful services. The ship was sent to London 
by the consul, and arrived there, as before said, while we lay in 
the docks. 

We witnessed on board her a most singular instance of 
affection in two snakes toward their master. An American, who 
had been connected with some of the menageries travelling 
through Chili and Peru, and had afterward owned a collection of 
animals himself, in Lima, found the business not to pay, and 
determining to leave the country, had engaged a cabin passage 
in the British ship. 

He had sold out his animals, all but two large anacondas, 
one thirteen, the other seventeen feet long. Lor these the . 
British captain had agreed to give him a cabin passage to 
London, and one hundred dollars, cash, on their arrival there, 
provided the snakes were then alive. They arrived safe and 
sound, and were duly taken ashore by the captain. When 
their former owner, however, asked for the hundred dollars, he 


STREET IN SAN FRANCISCO. 



4 



































A SNAKI^ STOJiY. 


127 


was refused it, under various pretences, and it became evident 
that the captain, having the snakes in his possession, intended 
to keep our countryman out of the money justly due him. 

The American was much distressed at this turn in his 
affairs, as he had depended on this sum of money to bear 
his expenses in getting back to the United States. He con- 
sulted our officers about the matter, but they could not show 
him any way to help himself out of his difficulties. 

This matter had been pendent nearly a week after the 
ship entered the dock, when one morning the British captain 
was heard very anxiously inquiring as to the whereabouts of 
Mr. Reynolds, his late passenger. It appeared that the snakes 
would not eat, and showed other symptoms of being ill at 
ease under his care, and he entertained fears that they would 
die before he could dispose of them. He therefore came in 

quest of their former owner, to ask his advice and assistance 
in setting them right again. 

It now for the first time occurred to the latter that the 
animals had never been fed, or handled even, to any .extent, by 
any one but him, and that they might therefore be shy of stran- 
gers. At our advice, he took advantage of this state of affairs 
to secure for himself the payment of the sum due him, making 
it the condition of inducting the captain into the manner of 
taking care of the snakes. 

At his suggestion, the chest in which the)^ were kept was 
again brought on board the vessel, and there, in her cabin, in 
the presence of part of our crew and a number of other persons, 
the chest was opened, he remaining on deck. The animals lay 


128 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


motionless in their coils, moving their heads sluggishly once 
in a while, but making no effort to raise themselves up, and 
exhibiting but few signs of active life. 

Mr. Reynolds now came down. Hardly had he gotten to 
the side of the chest when the snakes darted up, and in a 
moment were hanging their huge folds about his neck, and 
twisting in all imaginable ways about him, testifying, as plainly 
as snakes could, their great joy at seeing once more their old 
master. Before he left them, they had swallowed a chicken each, 
and seemed as lively as it was in their nature to be. 

The American told us, by way of accounting for their 
strange affection, that he had caught them when quite young 
in the jungle in Ceylon, whither he had gone to procure some 
animals, and they had ever since been under his exclusive care, 
a part of his daily business in Lima being to exhibit them. He 
agreed with the captain, in consideration of being paid his hun- 
dred dollars, to remain with them a sufficient length of time to 
accustom them to their new owner, and this was done. This 
was a remarkable proof of the fact that serpents have, although 
in a minor degree, the feelings of affection common to animals 
of a higher range in creation. 

The reader will perhaps desire to know what we, the 
sailors, saw of London. As the dock-gates close at seven, it 
is impossible to be out at evening without remaining all night, 
which involved a serious expense for our limited means. Then 
too after working hard all day, among casks, bales, and boxes, 
we did not feel in the mood for sight-seeing when evening 
came. So that our only opportunities of viewing the city were 



FLEET STREET 





































GOOD-BY TO LONDON. I31 

the Sundays and the solitary “ liberty day ” which was granted 
us. On these occasions we saw St. Paul’s, ascended the Lon- 
don monument (whence we saw nothing but smoke), and Hyde 
Park, with a few of the squares, and passed several times 

through the tunnel. When I took in consideration the vast 
number of noteworthy objects of which I saw no more than 

though I had not been in London at all, I was almost sorry 
that I had come, and had certainly to admit to myself that 

I had gone a very hard voyage to very little purpose, so far 
as sight-seeing was concerned. 

When we found that we should have to make the return 
passage in our brig, we asked the captain to have her bottom 
caulked before taking in cargo, that she might not leak when 

she got to sea. This he refused to do, because, in the first 
place, it would cost money, and next, it would take time, and 
he had neither to spare. • 

“ Besides,” said he, “ we shall have nothing in the lower part 
of the hold that will damage.” In his selfishness he gave no 
thought to the wearisome hours that his men would have to 
spend at the pumps, to keep the crazy old wreck afloat. 

We could have had a survey called upon her, in which case, 
should the surveyors decide her to need repairs, the captain would 
have been forced to make them. But in such cases the crew 
always labor under a serious disadvantage. If the survey is 
called for by them, and it should be decided that no repairs 
are actually needed, the whole expense falls upon them, making 
a far too heavy draft upon purses by no means plethoric. And 
as a captain’s word and influence generally go pretty far with 


132 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


the surveyors, all the chances are against the sailors. We there- 
fore chose rather to risk another laborious passage than venture 
to call a survey. 

We sailed from London on the second of March, and arrived 
in Boston on the second of April, our voyage lasting just three 
months. I had seen sufficient of cold weather, had gratified a 

desire I had long entertained, to make, myself, the experience 
of a winter trip across the Atlantic, and now firmly deter- 
mined that my future life at sea should be passed as much as 
possible in warm weather. 


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CHAPTER X. 

Ship for Calcutta — My new ship — Preparations for an India voyage — Sail from 
Boston — Points of difference between Indiamen and other ships — Discipline — Work 
— Our crew — A character. 

R emaining in Boston two weeks, I sailed in a large, 
comfortable ship, the Akbar, for Calcutta. The wages were 
twelve dollars per month. We carried seventeen hands before 
the mast, with a carpenter and sail-maker in the steerage, 
besides chief, second, and third mates. 

We had a splendid ship — neat, clean, and plentifully sup- 
plied with stores of all kinds. Our forecastle, like those of most 
Indiamen, was on deck^ — ^what is called a topgallant-forecastle 
— airy, and tolerable roomy, although, for the matter of room, 
all the forward deck was before us, to eat, sleep, or play upon. 
It was understood that she was to be a watch-and-watch ship, 
and we expected to have a pleasant voyage — an expectation 
in which we were not disappointed. 

In preparation for the warm weather in which I was to 
live for the next year or two, I provided myself with an abun- 
dance of blue dungaree, gave my ditty-box a thorough replen- 
ishing — laying in a large supply of needles, thread, tape, but- 
tons, etc., and procuring, in addition, duplicates of pretty much 



134 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


all articles that a sailor needs on board ship, sueh as knife, 
palm, sail-hook, marlin-spike, ete. 

We sailed from Boston on a beautiful spring morning 
with all sail, even to the diminutive skysail, set — the admira- 
tion of a erowd of tars who had congregated on the wharf to 
bid good-by to their shipmates. 

I found an Indiaman to differ in many things from the 
class of vessels in whieh I had been sailing sinee leaving the 
Serviee. Neatness and cleanliness, as regarded both vessel and 
crew, were much more looked after. The decks were nicely 
painted, and no stain of tar or grease was allowed to disfigure 
them. The rigging was fitted with greater care than common, 
and abundance of turkVheads and faney seizings and lashings 
bore witness to the sailorship of the mates and crew who 

last had. it under their charge. No clumsy patchwork was to 

be seen on any of the sails — nothing but cloths neatly set in, 
to replace old ones. 

The mates, too, were dressed much more tastefully than is 

.' 5 ' 

usual with offieers of merchant-ships, and the captain kept up 
a certain state in the eabin — having a boy to wait upon him, 
and only showing himself upon deek at seven bells, to take 
the sun or to get an observation, but never interfering directly 
with the working of the ship. In faet, he appeared so much 

of a dandy that we were somewhat inelined to doubt his 

seamanship, until, in the first gale we experieneed, he showed 
himself under entirely different eolors, and easting off the rather 
effeminate air eommon to him, took charge of the deek, and 
worked the vessel to the admiration of all hands. 

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SAIL-MAKING. 


137 


The helmsman was expected to appear in neat and clean 
clothing, and had half an hour in his watch on deck allowed 
him wherein to change his suit, and prepare himself for his 
trick at the wheel. 

As the voyage was to last much longer than a mere short 
trip to Europe, the discipline was somewhat stricter. Several 
weeks elapsed before all was arranged for the long passage 
to Calcutta, all port-gear, such as hawsers, fenders, boat’s 
awnings, etc., duly repaired, refitted, and stowed away below, 
and all the necessary chafing-gear put on. By this time the 
capabilities of the crew had been pretty well ascertained, and 
henceforth each one was employed in the department for which 
he was best qualified. 

I was chosen by the mate, in whose watch I was, as one 
of the sail-maker’s gang, and my daily work was laid out for 
me, on the quarter-deck, repairing old sails and awnings, and 
making new ones. A facility in handling a palm and needle, 
and working about sails, is one of the best recommendations 
a seaman can have to the good graces of a mate. And as 
sewing on sails is the cleanest and easiest work done on board 
ship, fortunate is he who, when bound on a long voyage, is 
taken into the sail-maker’s gang. He is exempt from all tarring 
and slushing, except on those general occasions when all hands 
tar down the rigging. While others are working in the broiling 
sun, on deck, or perched aloft, hanging on by their eyelids, he 
sits, in his clean white frock, under the quarter-deck awning, 
and quietly plies his needle. If he is, besides, a good helms- 
man, and a reliable man in a gale, he is likely to be a general 


138 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


favorite, and to lead a very pleasant sort of existence — for a 
sailor. 

Every ship, bound on a voyage of any length, carries at 
least three complete suits of sails — one a heavy suit, to be 
donned when approaching the higher latitudes, where rough 
winds prevail ; a second, good, but lighter than the former, 
which to carry when running down the trades, or sailing in 
latitudes where the breezes blow steadily ; and, lastly, an old 
suit, of little worth, which is bent on approaching the line, the 
region of calms and light winds, where sails are more quickly 
worn out by slatting against masts and rigging, and the con- 
tinual hauling up and down in working ship, than in twice the 
time sailing in steady breezes. 

Such a multitude of canvas requires endless repairing, 
altering, and sewing over. New sails are to be middle-stitched 
— that is, sewed down the middle of each seam — which materially 
adds to their strength and durability. Old ones need new 
cloths, or, perhaps, are ripped to pieces, and sewed together 
anew. Some are cut up, and transformed into awnings or lighter 
sails— and, altogether, there is sufficient work of the kind to 

keep a gang of four or five busy the entire voyage. 

As to the rigging, that needs never-ceasing attention to 

keep it in the perfeet order required on board a fancy East 

Indiaman. A large part of our outward passage was consumed 
in making spun yarn and marline, for which purpose a neat 
little iron winch had been provided, much better than the rude 
wooden contrivance fastened to a bit-head and turned with a 
ropers end, which is usually seen on board ship. Then the 


WORK. 


139 


spun yarn was to be made up into sword-mats and paunch- 

mats, suitable for various parts of the rigging, where the yards 
are likely to chafe. What with this, and refitting and setting 
up various parts of the rigging, our crew found plenty of work 
to their hands, and had no idle time when on deck. 

In our watch below, there were clothes to make, in prepara- 
tion for the warm weather of the Indies, and books to read, 

of whieh our crew fortunately had a good supply — rather better, 
in regard to quality, too, than are generally found in a fore- 
castle. And when tired of this, there was an infinity of fancy 

work, such as beckets for chests, hammock lashings and clews, 
and various other contrivances, more for show than use, on 

which to employ our spare time, and exert our skill at the 
numberless knots and curious plaits in which your true East 
India sailor takes so much delight. 

Busied thus, on deck and below, with a stanch ship under 
us, kind officers, and good living, we were a tolerably happy 
set. We were not either, without matter for amusement. An 
occasional game at checkers or backgammon, or a general 
gathering in the last dog-watch to play “ Priest of the Parish,” 
served to enliven the time. Some of our shipmates, too, were 
characters — queer fellows — and of course were duly studied and 
commented on. Not the least among these oddities, who are 
to be found in almost every vessel, was an old English sailor, 
whose growling and fault-finding spirit made us dislike him at 
first, until we found what a kind and genial heart was hidden 
beneath the rough exterior. 

The British sailor is a grumbler by nature. Place him 


140 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


where you will — or even where he himself most desires to be — ■ 
give him all that the heart can wish for, and he will grumble. 
In fact, the only way to make him happy is to give him plenty 
to eat and drink, plenty of hard work, and an unlimited privilege 
of growling. This is his chief happiness, and he is never so well 
pleased as when he has made every one about him uncomfort- 
able. Withal, there is, it must be said, no better seaman to be 
found ; he delights to be first in every place of duty ; there is 
no more trustworthy fellow than he in a gale — no better 
helmsman, nor more practised leadsman, than Johnny Bull. 

Allow him only his darling privilege of growling at you, 
and he will do all that mortal man can to serve you. Cursing 
you for a worthless, shiftless fellow, he gladly divides with you 
the last rag of his scanty wardrobe. Ask him for a needleful of 
thread, and he fretfully flings a whole skein at you, with an air 
under which not the most practised physiognomist could detect 
the pleasure which it really gives him to be of any assistance. 

So, too, on deck ; let him have the very best of the work, 
and he will growl ; and should lie — a most improbable thing — 
have no fault to find on his own account, he straightway takes up 
the cause of some one else, and expends his powers on the 
imaginary grievance of a shipmate. This petulant spirit is not 
liked in American ships, and many captains will not have 
British sailors at all. In fact, there is no I'eason in their 
grumbling. Half starved and badly treated in their own 
ships, they gladly avail* themselves of any chance to leave 
them, and enter on board a “ Yankee. ” But no sooner are they 
here than they grumble at the very privileges they enjoy, and 







gagay.v-iix 




Mnumm 


•iMinti iiiKiimiimMiHHml 




i2S'ntiiii 




AN INDIAN PAGODA 














/ 


ENGLISH GEORGE. 143 

are ceaseless in their regrets at having left their own flag. To 
such an extent is this carried, that “ To growl like a Lime- 
juicer,"* has become a proverb among American sailors. 

The owners of the vessel, who had themselves made choice of 
the crew, had used especial care to ship no Englishmen ; but one 
had slipped himself in among us, unknown to them, and we were 
not long out when his constitutional infirmity broke out. A 
kinder-hearted or more crabbed fellow than George never lived. 
No one could have been readier to confer a favor, and, truly, no 
one could have done it with a worse grace. 

The first head wind was a fit occasion for him to give vent 
to the accumulated spleen of several weeks. Coming on deck 
and finding the yards braced sharp up, he solemnly shook his 
fist to the windward, and apostrophized the breeze somewhat 
as follows ; 

“ Ay ! I knew it ; a head wind, and here we’ll be beating 
about for the next six months, without getting as far as the 
line — as though you couldn’t blow from anywheres else but 
the south’ard, just because we want to steer that way. But 
it’s just my luck; it serves me right for coming on board a 
bloody Yankee.” ^ 

It was not three days afterward when, on the return of a 
fair wind, and a consequent setting of studding-sails, George 
was heard to declare that he never saw such a ship for fair 
winds in his life, and he made a solemn vow — forgotten the 


* Lime -juicers,''^ British sailors are called, from the fact that, on board English vessels, 
the law requires that the crews be furnished with a weekly allowance of the extract of limes or 
lemons, as a preventive of scurvy. 


% 


\ 


144 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


next moment — that if she carried him once to Calcutta, she 
might have fair winds forever, for him — he’d leave her. 

So it was with everything. Now he would lose his twine 
in the folds of the sail upon which he was working, and would 
grumble at it for ten minutes after finding it, giving it an im- 
patient kick with his foot at the close of the harangue, which 
sent it flying to the other side of the deck, furnishing him occa- 
sion for another growl in getting up to get it. Again, he could 
not find at hand some little article for which he had looked 
in his chest, and he fretfully declared it was “like a Neapolitan 
box, everything atop, and nothing at hand.” 

The lobscouse, which formed our morning meal, was always 
either underdone or burnt up, for George ; the coffee was either 
too hot, or cold as dishwater ; the pork all fat, and the beef 
all lean — in short, he had a singular and, to me, somewhat 
comic way of looking continually at the dark side of life. 

Our crew, who could not, or would not, look beneath the 
shell of ill-nature with which he thus covered himself, took his 
inutterings as the real sentiments of the man, and soon grew 
to dislike him to some extent, although his known qualities 
as a stanch seaman secured him their respect ; and many dis- 
agreeable altercations occurred in consequence. To me he was 
a study, and, as serving to relieve the monotony of our every- 
day life, a very interesting one. 

Such being the case, we soon became friends and chums, 
much to the surprise of our shipmates, who were at a loss to 
know what Charley could fancy in that “ growling old Lime- 
juicer.” As his particular friend, I of course came in for an 


OUR CHUMMYSHIP. 


H5 

extra share of his petulancy. He was by many years my 
senior, and took upon himself to regulate all my conduct. He 
perseveringly found fault with all I did and did not, and was 
continually endeavoring to convince me that I was a mere boy 
— a know-nothing, so far as sailor-craft was concerned. Yet let 
any one else presume to speak slightingly of me, and George 
would turn upon him with a snarl, productive of speedy silence. 

He was the oldest seaman on boai'd, and had many, to me 
highly interesting, experiences to i relate of his roving life. He 
had passed many years in the East Indies, sailing out of Calcut- 
ta and Bombay, in the “country ships,” and in the company’s 
service. In common with most East India sailors, he had been 
engaged in the opium traffic, having been several times nearly 
captured by the Mandarin boats, which act as river police on 
Canton River. Like most of his class, he entertained a supreme 
contempt for John Chinaman, believing him to be constitutionally 
a swindler and a cheat, for whom there was no redemption. 

It was on a starlight ' mid-watch, as we were pacing the 
deck together, that I became the repository of a story of opium 
smuggling, which I will here transcribe, although not exactly 
in his own words. 

I must premise that my chum had been in that business 
previous to the British war in China. At that time the Chinese 
revenue officers were much more strict than they have dared 
to be since. Then they attacked the vessels which brought 
the opium to the coast, while now they confine their vigilance 
solely to the wretched Chinese who smuggle the contraband 
article from the depot ship to the shore. 

▼ 




CHAPTER XI. 

A yarn of opium synuggling — The vessel — The captain — Meet Mandarin boats — The 
fight — The cook's scalding water- — The breeze springs up — The repulse. 

I HAD just returned,” said George, “ from a voyage to 
Cochin, on the Malabar coast, after cocoa-nut oil, when 
a shipmate put it into my head to take another trip in * an 

opium-trader. There was just then lying in the river one of 
the prettiest little craft that was ever in that business, and you 

know they are all clippers. She was called the A , and 

had only come out from Boston about six months before. 

With her low black hull, tall rakish masts, and square yards, 
she was a regular beauty, just such a vessel as it does an old 
tar’s heart good to set eyes on — though for the matter of com- 
fort, keep me out of them, for what with their scrubbing and 
scouring in port, and their carrying on sail at sea, to make a 
good passage, and half drowning the crew, there’s very little 
peace on board of them. After all,” said George, abating 

a little of his usual snarl, “it takes you Yankees to turn out 
the clippers. Why, I never saw any Scotch clipper that could 
begin to look up to that craft. 

“We went aboard to take a look at the beauty, and 
before we left her had shipped for the voyage. The captain 



A CITY OF INDIA 


ass 






* 







4 


\ 


a: 



. s 



OPIUM SMUGGLING, 


149 


, was a lank West Indian, a nervous creature, who looked as 
though he never was quiet a moment, even in his sleep — and 
we afterward found he didn’t belie his looks. 

“ After taking a eruise around Calcutta for a couple of days, 
we went on board, bag and hammock (for no chests were 
allowed in the forecastle). Our pay was to be eighty rupees 
per month, with half a month’s advance. The vessel was well 
armed, having two guns on a side, beside a long Tom amid- 
ships. Boarding pikes were arranged in great plenty on the 
rack around the mainmast, and the large arm-chest on the 
quarter-deck was well supplied with pistols and cutlasses. We 
were fully prepared for a brush with the rascally Chinese, and 
determined not to be put out of our course by one or two 
Mandarin boats. 

“We sailed up the river some miles, to take in our chests 

of opium, and having them safely stowed under hatches, pro- 

• ceeded to sea. With a steady wind we were soon outside of 

< 

the Sand-Heads, the pilot left us, and we crowded on all sail, 
with favoring breezes, for the Straits of Malacca. If ever a 

vessel had canvas piled on her, it was the A . Our topsails 

were fully large enough for a vessel of double her tonnage. 
We carried about all the flving'-kites that a vessel of her ri^- 

y o c? 

has room for. Skysails, royal-studdingsails, jibejib, staysails 
alow and aloft, and even watersails, and save-alls, to fit beneath 
the foot of the topsails. Altogether, we were prepared to 
show a clean pair of heels to any craft that sailed those waters. 

“ She steered like a top, but our nervous skipper, who was 
not for a moment, day nor night, at rest, but ever driving the 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


I 


150 


v^essel, had one of those compasses in the binnacle, the bottom 
of which being out, shows in the cabin just how the vessel’s head 
is at any moment. Under this compass, on the transom, the old 
man used to lay himself down, when he pretended to sleep (for 
we never believed that he really slept a wink); and the vessel 
could not deviate a quarter of a point of her course, or, while 
we were on the wind, the royals could not lift in the least, 
before he was upon the helmsman, cursing and swearing like 
a trooper, and making as much fuss as though she had yawed 
a point each way. 

“It was the season of the south-west monsoon, and of 
course we had nearly a head wind down through the Malacca 
Strait. But our little craft could go to windward, making a 
lonpf tack and a short one, nearly as fast as many an old 

O ' ^ 

cotton tub can go before the wind. 

“Our crew consisted of seventeen men — all stout, able fel- 
lovys. There were no boys to handle the light sails, and it was^ 
sometimes neckbreaking work to shin up the tall royal mast 
when skysails were to be furled, or royal-studd’nsail-gear rove. 
We had but little to do on board. To mend a few sails and'* 
steer the vessel was the sum total of our duty, and as we had 
plenty of good books to read, those who were inclined that 
way had fine times. The rest spent their time playing at 
backgammon and cards, in the forecastle. On board these ves- 
sels the men are wanted mainly to work ship expeditiously, 
when necessary, and, in those days, to defend her against the 
attacks of the Chinese officers, whose duty, but ill-fulfilled, it 
was to prevent the smuggling of opium into the country. 


MANDARIN BOATS. 


151 

“ Once past Singapore, and fairly in the China Sea, we 

had a fair wind, and, with all studdingsails set, made a straight 

wake for the mouth of Canton River. As we neared the Chinese 
coast, preparations were made for repelling any possible attacks. 
Cutlasses were placed on the quarter-deck, ready for use, pistols 
loaded, and boarding-nettings rigged, to trice up between the 
rigging some ten feet above the rail, thus materially obstructing 
any attempts to board the vessel when they were triced up. 

While not in use these nettings were of course lowered down, 
out of the wav of the sails. 

“ It did not take our little clipper many days to cross the 
China Sea. We had passed the Ass’s Ears, the first land-fall 
for China-bound vessels, approaching the coast by this way, 
and were just among the Ladrone Islands, a little group lying 
in front of Canton Bay, and which is the great stronghold of 
the Chinese pirates, when we beheld, starting out from under 
the land, two of the long Mandarin boats. They appeared to 
know our craft, or to suspect her business, for they steered straight 
toward us. 

“With the immense force they have at the oars, it did not 

take them long to get within gun-shot range, which was no 

sooner the case than our skipper, taking good aim, let fly a shot 
from Long Tom in their midst. This evidence of our readi- 
ness for them took them all abaek, and after consulting together 
for a little, they showed themselves to be possessed of the 
better part of valor — prudence — by retreating to their lurking- 
place, behind the land. 

“ Our skipper heartily hated a Chinaman, and considered it 


152 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


no more crime to shoot one than to kill a mad do^. He 

therefore had no compunctions of conscience about firing into 
them whenever they showed themselves inclined to molest him. 

He was an old cruiser in those waters, having passed the 
greater part of his life in the Indies, and knew that nothing was 
so apt to beat off the cowardly Mandarins as a show of 
resolute resistance, and a full state of preparation. We knew, 
therefore, that so long as we were in clear water and had a good 
breeze, there was but little to be feared from them. The only 
danger was in case we should be becalmed when we ffot 

O o 

under the lee of the land, as they would be keeping a constant 
watch upon us, and in such a case would no doubt make a 
desperate rush upon us, and perhaps capture us by mere 

superiority of numbers. 

“ ‘ But you all know the penalty, boys, and it’s better to 

die at your guns than be squeezed to death by. those fellows,’ 
said the captain. 

“ As may be imagined, we were all determined to defend 
ourselves to the last ; even the black cook kept his largest 
boiler constantly on the galley stove, filled with boiling water, 
wherewith to give the rascals a warm salute, should they 
endeavor to board. 

“ Nowadays, since the Chinese war, the opium is in most 
cases transferred from the smuggling vessels to large ships which 
lie at the mouth of the river, principally near Lintin Island, 
as depot vessels, whence again it is smuggled on shore by the 
Chinese opium boats, whose crews run the greatest risk of all, 
as the Mandarin boats are at all times on watch for them. 


BECALMED. 


153 


They are a desperate set, and have frequent encounters with 
the Mandarins, when no mercy is shown on either side, the 
smugglers, however, generally gaining the day. 

“ In the days of which I am telling you, however, there 
were no depot ships, and every captain had to get rid of his 
own cargo as best he could. Those were the times in which 
opium smugglers scarcely expected to land a cargo without a 
skirmish of some kind. 

“ What we had feared shortly came to pass. In less than 
two hours after we had seen the boats, we lay becalmed under 
the land. The little vessel was perfectly unmanageable, drifting 
at the mercy of the current. Had we been far enough in shore, 
we should have anchored. As it was, we could neither anchor 

nor could we manage the vessel, to turn her broadside toward 

an enemy, should such appear. Luckily, Long Tom could be 
turned any way, and with his aid we thought to keep off our 
assailants. 

“ It was not long before these made their appearance. They 
had in the mean time obtained re-enforcements, and four large 
boats, containing from sixty to a hundred men each, now shot 
out from under the land, and came toward us with rapid 

sweeps. We did not wait for them to come to close quarters, 
but sent some shots at them from Long Tom. These, however, 
did not deter them. The calm had given them courage, and 

after discharging their swivels at us, with the hope of crippling 
the vessel, by hitting some of our tophamper — an expectation 
in which they were disappointed — they rushed to the onslaught. 

“ We now rapidly triced up our boarding nettings, and lying 


^54 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


down under shelter of the low rail awaited the attack. The 
boarding nets they were evidently unprepared for, as at sight 
of them they made a short halt. This the old man took 
advantage of, and taking good aim, let drive . Long Tom at 
them, and luckily this time with good effect, knocking a hole 
in one of the boats, and evidently wounding some of her 
crew. Taking this as a signal to advance, and leaving the dis- 
abled boat to shift for itself, the remaining three now rapidly 
advanced to board. The wise scoundrels, taking advantage of 
the unmanageableness of our vessel, came down immediately 
ahead, to board us over the bow, a position where, they well 
knew, they were secure from the shot of our two light guns, 
which could only be fired from the broadside. Cocking our 
pistols, and laying the boarding pikes down at our sides, ready 
for instant use, we waited for them. 

“ Directly, twenty or tliirty leaped upon the low bowsprit, 
some rushing to the nettings with knives to cut an entrance. 
We took deliberate aim and fired, about a dozen falling back 
into the boats as the result of our first and only shot. Drop- 
ping the firearms, we now took to the pikes, and rushed to 
the bow. Here the battle was for some minutes pretty fierce, 
and a rent having been made in the boarding net, the China- 
men rushed to it like tigers. But as fast as they came in 
they were piked and driven back. 

“ Meantime, one of the boats had silently dropped along- 
side, and ere we were aware of it, her crew were about 
boarding us in the rear. But here the Doctor (the pet name 
for the cook) was prepared for them, and the first that showed 


/ 

THE FIGHT. I 55 

\ 

their heads above the rail received half a bucketful of scald- 
ing water in their faces, which sent them back to their boat, 
howling with pain. 

‘“That’s it. Doctor, give it to them,’ shouted the old man, 

who seemed to be quite in his element. And he rushed down 

/ 

off the poop, whither he had gone for a moment to survey 
the contest, and taking a bucketful of the boiling water forward, 
threw it in among the Chinamen who were there yet obsti- 
nately contesting the possession of the bow. With a howl of 

mixed pain and surprise, they retreated, and we succeeded in 

fairly driving them back into the boats. 

“A portion of us had before this gone to the assistance 

of the cook at the side, and had succeeded in keeping them at 
bay there. To tell the truth, the hot water frightened them more 
than anything else, and the boat’s crew alongside required all the 
urging of their Mandarin officer to make them charge at all. 

“ Luckily, at this moment a squall, which had been for 
some time rising, broke upon us, and the brig began to forge 
ahead through the water. A more fortunate thing could not 
have occurred. With a shout of victory, we made a final rush 
at our assailants, and drove them back to their boats, which 
cutting adrift, and giving the one alongside^ a parting salute 
of half a dozen shot in her bottom, thrown in by hand, we 

left them. Our captain now strongly desired to turn aggressor, 
and at least run down one or two of them, but prudential 
considerations prevented him from committing the rather wanton 
destruction of life which this would have involved. For there 
was dano;er that the breeze would a^rain subside, and we be 


^56 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


exposed to a second attack of the Chinamen, which was far 
from desirable. We therefore made the best of our way from 
the scene of action, steering toward Lintin Bay, where we were 
so fortunate as to meet a little fleet of opium boats, which 
quickly relieved us of our cargo, and we were no farther 
molested by the Mandarins, who had probably gotten a surfeit 
of fighting, an amusement they are not very fond of 

“ But the old man vowed that the next time he was 
attacked he would have no mercy ; a threat which he fulfilled 
on his very next voyage, when he sailed into Macao Roads 
with a Chinaman hanging at each yard-arm, after having run 
down two Mandarin boats and destroyed them, probably drown- 
ing most of the crew.’' 

“But what arms did the Chinamen use to attack you.^” 
asked I of George. 

“ Principally long knives, with which they cut right and 
left ; but not the least effective of their weapons were large 
stones, of which their boats seemed to have an almost inex- 
haustible supply, and which were handed up' to those who 
had obtained a footing upon the bowsprit, and thence hurled 
in our midst. Several of our men received severe bruises from 
these missiles. By keeping them from close fighting by 
means of our pikes, we prevented them from doing much 
execution with their knives. We had no less than seven men 
wounded in the encounter, but fortunately no one was danger- 
ously hurt. We freely awarded the credit of our victory to 
the cook, whose hot water did more to discourage our assail- 
ants than either our firearms or pikes. 


DANCERS. 









(ir. . 




THE SOUTH-EAST TRADES ONCE MORE. 


159 


“ As soon as we discharged our cargo, we proceeded on 
our return passage to Calcutta. It was on this trip that we 

were dismasted in a typhoon, in the China Sea. Of this I 
will tell you some other time, for it’s nearly eight bells, and 
we’ll heave the log directly and turn in.” 

We had again sailed through the pleasant south-east trades, 
again rounded the Cape, encountering there the usual storm, 
and were well on our way to Calcutta when the above 
yarn was spun. I must say that I enjoyed this trip much 

more than the one I had previously made through these waters 
in a vessel of war. A seventy-four-gun ship is much too large 
to be made a home of. One lives too much in public, as it 
were, and there are so many hands that one never gets inti- 
mately acquainted with all. On board the Akbar we were by 
this time all perfectly at home with one another, and were 
indeed like a band of brothers. 

Then, the merchant vessel, with her smaller crew, has many 
conveniences and comforts which the man-of-war sailor is forced 
to do without. And the very work which he is obliged to 
perform, the being constantly busy when upon decks, makes 
the luxury of a free watch below all the more welcome. 

While beating up the south-east trades, we all used to sleep 
on deck. From six till eight, the last dog-watch, was generally 
devoted to singing and yarning, and after that all hands 
brought out their pea-jackets, mats, and rugs, and, gathering in 
a little knot, lay down and talked themselves to sleep. Secure 
that the wind would neither increase nor decrease, nor change, 
we slept soundly all night, only roused by the mates, who were 


i6o 




THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


not unfrequently obliged to wake up all hands, in order to 
find out whose wheel it was. Happy he who had no trick at 
the wheel all night. He could rest securely as though in his 
bed at home. The landsman who has been all his life accus- 
tomed to his undisturbed night’s rest after the day’s duties and 
fatigues can form no idea of the feeling of luxurious abandon 
with which a sailor closes his eyes on such an occasion, when 
an uninterrupted sleep of six or eight hours is almost a cer- 
tainty, and his mind is bereft of all fear of being called out 
to tack ship or reef topsails. 



CHAPTER XII. 

The merchant seaman s Su?idav — Growling George and I become chuins — Catching 
fish — Porpoise meat — A storm off the Cape — The Sand Heads — The Hoogly — George 
and I determine to leave the ship — The pilots — Calcutta. 

T o the merchant sailor, Sunday is a day of peculiar enjoy- 
ment. After six days of unintermitted labor, working, too, 
among tar and slush, and all manner of dirt, having no time 
for shaving or washing, and no chance to keep on clean 
clothes, the Sabl)ath comes in as a day of rest, when the mind 
and body are both relieved, and the human machine I'ests for 
a period. On this day all hands may luxuriate safely in clean 
shirts and trousers, and the entire forenoon is generally devoted 
to shaving, washing, and renovating in various ways the outer 
man. 

On Saturday afternoons, the forecastle receives a thorough 
scrubbing at the hands of the boys, and for that and the next 
day every one is expected to take special pains not to make 
any litter on the white floor or decks. Sunday morning the 
decks are scrubbed, and those who have the morning watch have 
afterward time to make their toilet before breakfast. After 
breakfast, the other watch go through this duty, and then all 
hands may be seen lying about decks, some with books, others 


i 62 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


re-reading old letters, while others yet take what is called, />ar 
excellence, “ sailor’s pleasure,” in overhauling their chests, bring- 
ing their best clothing on deck to air, and counting over their 
stock of tobacco and pipes. 

As during the week all on deck are kept constantly at 
work, and the watch below are expected to ^confine themselves 
to the limits of the forecastle, that they may not interfere with 
the labors of those on deck, it seems quite a privilege, on Sab- 
bath, to roam at will about the ship, without fear of being set 
to work. 

On board a vessel of war, where every day in the week is a 
Sunday, so far as exemption from work is concerned, the Sabbath 
itself is looked forward to with dread and dislike, because of 
the mustering and inspecting set apart for that day. But in 
the merchant service the Sabbath is a much-needed and welcome 
day of rest. 

It may be asked, what manner of books are found in the 
forecastle } To that I must answer, all kinds. From the most 
abstruse metaphysical speculations to the merest sixpenny ballad, 
or the trashiest yellow cover, I have seen -lying on the lockers 
of a ship’s forecastle. Of course tales of the sea, such as 
Cooper’s and Maryatt’s novels, are found in greatest abundance, 
but it is not at all rare to find among the tarry frocks and 
•trousers, in the sea-chest of an old sailor, such books as 
Shakespeare and Milton, the Spectalor,W?Ls\\mgton Irving, Gold- 
smith, and other standard authors. I have often found a gray- 
beard old seaman as familiar with the choicest authors in the 
Eno-lish lano;uaafe as the veriest man of books and leisure 


THE MERCHANT SEAMAN 163 

:ashore. And I have heard shrewd criticisms passed on books 
.and authors, in a dingy forecastle, which would not have done 
•dishonor to some occupants of chairs professorial. 

The reason for this is obvious. The sailor, if on board a 
good ship, has much spare time in his watches below, which 
he must while away in some manner; and books are not only 
the most natural, but the most satisfactory resort to relieve 
the monotony of a tedious passage. But there is very little 
intellectual aliment' in the yellow-cover literature of the day, 
and the mind naturally flies to something more solid. Aside 
from this, it is impossible that a man should travel all over 
the world, visit most of the principal seaports, if nothing more, 
■east, west, north, and south, and not pick up in his peregrina- 
tions very many items of information, to which, had he lived 
on shore, he would have remained a stranger, and which give 
to his mind an inquiring turn. And thus it happens that 
there are few more interesting talkers than an intelligent old 
.seaman. 

In nothing does a merchant vessel differ more from a 
man-of-war than in the bond of unity which exists between 
the crew. Where six or seven hundred men are crowded 
together in one vessel, it is natural that there should spring 
up cliques and parties, creating walls of separation between 
different members of the body. The reverse of this is the case 
in the merchantman, where the forecastle, in general, is as one 
man, not only in sentiment, but also to a very great extent 
in worldly possessions. Thus, while each individual makes it a 
point of duty to provide himself to the best of his ability 


104 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


with everything necessary to him, whatever one has is always 
at the service of the rest, and such a thing as bringing aboard 
any delicacies from the shore, and not voluntarily dividing them 
in the forecastle, is never seen. The individual who would do 
so would be looked down upon as mean and selfish in the 
highest degree. A complete community of goods prevails, and 
what one has not, others are always ready to help him out in. 

Besides this general brotherhood, a still closer bond of 
friendship generally obtains in a foreeastle, between individuals 
who are drawn together by congeniality of disposition, long 
acquaintance, or other cause. Thus, two men will hold their 
entire ^ property together, owning everything in common, looking 
out for one another's interests, aiding each other in difficulties, 
and laying ' out together their plans for the future. Such a 
connection is known as chummyship, and to have a good chum 
is one of the pleasantest parts of a voyage. 

I had parted from my chum in Philadelphia, on my return 
from Liverpool, and had not since then found any one with 
whose ways and qualities I was sufficiently pleased to form a 
new connection of the kind. The crew of the'Akbar were all 
strangers to me ' when we came on board in Boston, but most 
of them had been together before, .and fell therefore naturally 
into little parties. How it first came about I could not tell, 
but it so turned out that growling George and I were 
gradually drawn together, and before we were a month out, he 

A 

and I had agreed to be chums. He was the oldest, while I 
.was the youngest seaman in ’ the ship; he therefore claimed 
and exercised, in virtue of his experience and my youth, a 


OLD GEORGE AGAIN. 


/ 

165 

general oversight over me, which I was very willing to allow, 

inasmuch as it evinced that he felt an interest in my welfare, 
and also as in such an oversight I could profit by his superior 
experience, while I in return was glad to do for him any 

little services that lay in my power. 

I saw and felt too, what many of our fellows could not 
perceive, that under a rough and unattractive outside, old George 
hid a kind heart, and that his growling was simply a matter 

of habit, and not the result of malice. We two had been veiy 
gradually becoming more and more intimate for some time, 
neither, however, making any more than very general advances 
.toward each other, until on one rainy night I was about to go 
on deck without an oil-jacket, having mislaid mine. George, 

who was in the other watch at this time, called me back, and 
growling at me for a careless fellow, threw his over my 
shoulders, and bade me otq on deck. 

Now, if there is one thine that is never lent or borrowed 
in a forecastle, it is an oil-jacket. Pea-jackets, sea-boots, shirts, 
and even trousers, are freely offered and accepted, but an oil 
suit never, and he who has none of his own considers himself 
in honor bound to do without. It may be imagined, therefore, 
that not only I, but all who saw the action, considered it a 
great favor, and between George and myself the matter was 
at once and tacitly understood as an offer and acceptance of 
chummyship. Henceforth he took a more lively interest in me, 
and when, shortly after, I was overhauling my chest, he very 
good-naturedly sat down to aid me in arranging it to a little 
better advantage. Looking over my clothes, he showed me 


i66 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


where various improvements might be made in them, com-- 
mended me for neatness, and read me a lecture on having a 
place for everything, where it could be found at a moment’s 
notice, in allusion to my having before mislaid my oil-jacket. 

Shortly after, his thread, needles, and thimble found their 
way into my ditty-box, and when once I desired to borrow a 
sail needle, of which he had a good supply, he told me to go 
to his chest and help myself. Thus, by almost imperceptible 
degrees we became closer friends, and shortly, we held our' 
property in common, and it was plainly understood, not only 
by our two s.elves, but by all hands, that we two were chums.. 
Still not a word of such an arrangement had ever been spoken 
between us. It was well enough understood without. Hence- 

o 

forth I came in for a special share of his grumbling and fault- 
finding, which, however, I knew how to take, generally laughing- 
him out of his ill-humor. 

I found George’s friendship valuable to me in many respects. 
Considerable deference is paid on board ship to age, and it 
was considered not more than right that I, who was the 

youngest, should be instructed in many things by my old chum. 
And a better instructor I could not have had. In his long- 

life at sea he had gathered sea-lore wherever he went, and 
uniting the knowledge of the sailors of several nations, was 
at home in anything that could be done with a ship. He 

was standard authority both in the forecastle and aft, in all 
that pertained to rigging or managing a vessel, and his sugges- 
tions as to alterations in the rig were always listened to with 

/ 

deference by the mates, grumblingly as they were uttered. 


I^ISHING 



If a new purchase was to be rove, a fancy knot to be 
tied, or any labor-saving tackle studied out, George was the 
mate’s right-hand man, and to him the work was consigned, 
with the knowledge that in his hands it would be well 
done. To me his hints on steering, setting studdingsails, and 


HINDOO PAGODA, 


manv other of the more laborious duties of the sailor were 
invaluable, enabling me to bring skill to the aid of strength, 
and perform my work better and with less exertion than other- 
wise I should have been able to do. 

While beating through the south-east trades, making our 



THE MERCHAN r VESSEL, 


1 68 


way toward the Cape, we frequently caught fish out of the 
schools that constantly surrounded the ship, affording an agree- 
able variety to our salt provisions. Here again the merchant 
sailor is favored far above the man-of-wars man. The latter 
has no access to the galley, and though he may catch fish 
all day, would not be able to get them cooked, there being no 
room for preparing anything but the regular ship's allowance. 
But in the merchant service, the cook is glad to have some- 
thing to provide, for a change, and, as our lines hung con- 
stantly to the jib-guys, we had fresh fish, whenever we desired 
it, for a long time. 

When off the Cape, we one day harpooned a porpoise, 
and I now for the first time ate of this fish. The porpoise 
is a fish of the whale kind, from six to ten feet long, and hav- 
ing a pointed nose or bill, giving the head some little resem- 
blance to a bird’s. The meat resembles somewhat coarse beef, but 
iS much darker — almost black. The liver, which is the choicest 
part, and is considered quite a delicacy, is hardly to be dis- 
tinguished, when cooked, from the liver of a hog. 

Before we fairly doubled the Cape, we experienced the usual 
gale of wind, without which it seems almost impossible to get 
into the Indian Ocean, and although the wind was fair, we 
were compelled to shorten sail. 

“Ay, reef her down,” growled my chum, “just as though 
you wanted her to lay here like an old hulk.” 

“ But, George,” said one, “ you would not want to steer her 
to-night, with whole topsails.^” 

“Let him put topgallantsails on her, and I’ll steer her 


COTTON MERCHANTS OF INDIA 


































THE GANGES. 


17E 

with one hand. Who wants to wallow about here just like 
some old Dutch drogher.? I want to get to Calcutta.” 

Nevertheless, with all his grumbling, George was the first 
man on the topsailyard, and took occasion, while he and I 
were securing the lee-earing, to prophesy that we would be at 
least six months on our passage, “shortening sail for every cap- 
ful of wind.” In his heart the old fellow was glad of the 
comfortable night’s rest which our taking in sail' secured to all 
hands, but his growl was as earnest and persistent, as though 
he had been really an ill-used man. 

* 

W e were but a few days off the Cape, and with a fair 
wind soon regained a warmer latitude. With the aid of favor- 
ing breezes we made a quick run to the Sand Heads, where 
receiving a pilot from one of the pilot brigs which have there 
their cruising ground, we were soon in the Hoogly. 

The Sand Heads are shoals formed by the deposits of the- 
Hoogly. They extend to some distance beyond the mouth of 
the river, and their navigation is difficult and often dangerous. 
None but the smaller country vessels venture upon the intri- 
cate channels without the aid of a pilot. Sauger Point is 
the first land made by vessels approaching the mouth of the 
Hoogly. 

No sooner were we in the river than everything at once 
assumed an East India air. The officers donned jackets and 
trousers of dazzling white, the crew wore their lightest clothing,, 
the awnings were spread, and as we sailed up the broad stream 
leading to Calcutta, its shores studded with vegetation in all 
the exuberance of a tropical climate, I could almost fancy that 




172 THE MERCHANT VESSEL/ 

'we had all been metamorphosed into East Indians, so complete 
was the change in appearance of the vessel and her crew. 

The city of Calcutta lies about one hundred miles from 
the junction of the Hoogly with the sea. The river banks, for 
a portion of the way, are low and marshy, forming a dense 
jungle, with here and there a native hut peeping out from 

the mass of green foliage. Above Fort Diamond, however, 
about half way up, European and native residences begin to 
abound on the river bank, and as these are laid out with all 
the magnificence that art and money can produce, they make 

up a most enchanting scene. 

My chum, George, who was a real vagabond, had already 
wearied of the monotony of life on board the Akbar, and 

longed for a change. He had determined not to go home in 

the ship, but to take a chance in a lime-juicer, or a country 
ship, where he could make a short trip to some other East 
Indian port, and again try a new vessel. He of course con- 
fided his wish to me, and urged me to go with him. I 
readily entered into his project, as it chimed well with my 
own desire to see somewhat more of the East Indies than I 
should be likely to, did I remain in the Akbar. We had, 
therefore, already before we made the land, picked out such of 
our joint stock of clothes as we considered it best to take 
along, when we should leave, and determined to avail ourselves 
of the first suitable chance that oflFered, after our arrival at 
Calcutta. 

The pilots on the Hoogly are perhaps the greatest gentle- 
men to be found in all their fraternity. Although sterling sailors,^ 



INDIAN LABORERS 





















CALCUTTA HARBOR. 


175 


and masters of their business (and their duty on the river is 
of the most arduous kind), they bear about them none of the 
rough looks or manners of the sailor. They are mostly men 
of education, not a few of them dabbling in literature, and 
some of the most creditable prose and poetry in the Oriental 
magazines is dated from the pilot brigs “ off the Sand Heads.” 

The slender and rather effeminate gentleman who was as- 
sisted up our gangvvay, and took charge of the vessel, with 
his jewelled fingers, and dainty tread, smacked more of the 
parlor or the counting-house than of the ship. But he was not 
ten minutes on board before we knew that we had a seaman 
to deal with. 

He brought on board with him a leadsman and a private 
servant, two swarthy Hindoos, and sufficient baggage to last 
him, so we thought, for a voyage round the world. Naviga- 
tion on the Hoogly is of the most difficult, as the channel 
is almost constantly shifting, and the tides and currents are 
extremely rapid. It is necessary, therefore, to keep the lead 
constantly going, and the line used by the pilot’s leadsman, a 
man of no little experience himself, is marked at every three 
inches, instead of every six feet, as is the common lead line. 

We had sailed but little ways up the river when we were 
■hailed by a steam-tug, and as our captain was anxious to get 
up to the city, she was called alongside, and took us in tow. 
This greatly lightened our labors, and by the time we reached 
the anchorage abreast of Calcutta, we had the topgallant and 
.royal yards sent down, the lighter sails unbent, and the ship 
.all ready for a long stay in port. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


I 75 


Most vessels eoming to Calcutta are moored in tiers in 
the river, opposite the city, and at but little distance from the 
shore, where they discharge and take in cargo. Great care 
is taken to preserve the health of the crew, as the city is 
noted as a sickly place in the summer season. Gangs of Hin- 
doos are employed, to labor in the hold, at discharging or stow- 
ing cargo, the ships company being employed in fitting up the 
rigging, working under awnings spread fore and aft over the 
upper deck. These awnings are kept up night as well as day 
and under them the men sleep at night, secure from the noxious 
influences of the heavy dews. 

The manner of working of the Hindoo stevedores aflforded 
me much amusement. It is necessary, in the first place, to have 
double the number of them that would be required of Euro- 
peans (as all whites are called in the Indies). The gang is 
under the command of a serang, whose orders are implicitly 
obeyed, and who is amenable to the captain for the good con- 
duct of his men. They make much noise, singing and shout- 
ing, but work very slowly. Besides the tools for working, 
which they bring aboard, and their cooking utensils, each gang 
is the possessor of a large pipe, with a long flexible tube, called 
a hookah, and bv the sailors denominated a hubble-bubble, on 
account, I suppose, of the peculiar bubbling made by the water 
in the lower bowl, through which the smoke is drawn into the 
tube. The hubble-bubble is lit early in the morning, and does 
not again go out during the day, the gang relieving each other 
regularly at it, one being always smoking. This is considered 
a matter of course, and no surprise is felt to see a man break. 





/ 


: 


i 


,n 


I 

1 

;; 

•1 


Jj 



THE NATIVE LABORERS. 


179 


•off in the middle of a severe lift, to relieve his companion at 
,the pipe. 

They have their own cook, their own galley, their own 
utensils and provisions, and even have assigned to them a 
.special water-cask, from which none of the Europeans are al- 
lowed to use. The law of caste enforces this upon them, and 
although they are the very lowest of the population, they have 
the utmost abhorrence to eating anything which a white man 
has touched. The sailors are strictly forbidden from playing 
tricks upon them, as they would be too likely to do otherwise, 
practical jokes being something that Jack is exceedingly fond of. 

To facilitate communication with the shore, the ships have 
native boatmen hired, who, for a certain sum, are always, day 
and night, at hand to transport persons to or from shore. These 
are called dingy wallahs, wallah being a term signifying mer- 
chant or trader, and of universal application to all manner of 
•occupations. 

Every kind of tropical fruit is to be had in abundance in 
'Calcutta. All the conveniences and comforts which heart can 
desire are here at hand. Clothing is cheap and of good quality. 
Every kind of food is also very cheap. The natives work for 
the merest trifle, and one no sooner sets his foot on shore 
than he is besieged by numbers of them, asking for a job, 
•offering to procure him a palankin, volunteering to show him 
about the town, begging from him, or endeavoring, by the per- 
formance of various juggling feats, to draw a little money out 
■of your pocket. 

With sailors, Calcutta is a favorite port. There are few 


i8o 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL 


places even in India where their money will hold out so well,, 
and fewer still where they find united so many of the con-- 
comitants which go to make up a good spree. 

I was ashore but twice, both times in the evening after' 
the day’s work was finished, but I saw that Jack carries it 
there with a high hand. Rupees fly about as though they 
grew on trees in the next jungle, and India Jack, in his white- 
suit, orders his servants about with the air of a lord. 


/ 



I 



/ 











( 


i 






I \ 


'i 


V 

T 

j 

X 


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. 

I 


i 









w y 



CHAPTER XIII. 


<Leave the Akhar — An English vessel — Sail for Madras — Some of the peculiarities of 
British ships — Arrive at Aladras — The port — Manner of takmg m cargo — How I 
got into the sailmaker s gang — The surf boats — A storm a^id its consequences. 


E had been but a few days in port, and I had only 


been twice on shore in the evening, of course seeing 
but little of the town or the inhabitants, when my chum 
'Came on board late one night and communicated to me the fact 
that an English vessel about to sail for Madras was in want 
of hands, and that the captain had offered him and me a chance. 
I demurred somewhat at leaving Calcutta, before I had taken 
a daylight look at it, but was silenced by George saying that 
when we came back we could stay a month ashore if we de- 
; sired. I therefore agreed to go with him, and it was arranged 
that the next night we would go on board the bark, as she 
was to sail early the succeeding morning. 

That night we arranged into suitable bundles the effects we 

o o 

intended to take with us, and the next evening, bidding good- 
by to a few of our shipmates, but without communicating to 
them our destination, we called the dingy zvallah and were 
set ashore. We walked down the side of the river until we 



i 82 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


came abreast of the English bark, and on hailing were quickly 
taken on board, in her own boat. 

Here we found all things ready for sea, an anchor watch 
already set, windlass brakes shipped, and topsails hanging by the 
bunt gaskets. Early next morning we got underweigh, and 
sailed down the river with a fair wind and tide. 

When the topsails were sheeted home and hoisted up, 
George, who had evidently not considered his escape as made 
good until then, clapped me on the shoulder, and said, cheerfully : 
“Now, boy, you’re on board a lime-juicer; look aft and. 
see the red cross waving over your head.” 

It had not occurred to me before, but as I glanced in that 
direction and saw the blood-red ensign of England fluttering in 
the spot where until now I had been used to see only the 
Stars and Stripes, I for the first time realized that I was a 
stranger. For the moment I felt my heart sink, and longed 
to be back in my old ship, with the gridiron overhead. But 
regrets were now useless, and the reflection that at any rate 
I was about to see something new, to make myself acquainted 
with another phase of sea life, made me contented with my 
position. And with that never-failing comforter of the sailor, 
“ What’s the odds, so long as you’re happy T I drove away all 
feelings of regret, and went cheerfully to my work. 

The passage to Madras, although lasting but a few days, 
was sufficient to give me quite an insight into many of the 
peculiar points of difference between English and American ships 
and sailors. British ships partake largely of that solidity which 
is a peculiar characteristic of John Bull. A spirit of utilita- 


THE YANKEE VS. THE BRITON. 


rianism pervades all. Strength and durability are qualities much 
more looked after than beauty. And while everything is neat 
and seaman-like, there is none of that light, airy grace which 
is noticeable in the Yankee. 

The American sports an extravagant length of spars, and 
seeks to give his vessel a rakish look, even if* she is the 
dullest of cotton boxes. The Briton — so John Bull delights 
to be called when away from his native isle — the Briton saws 
off every superfluous inch of timber, scarcely leaving enough 
to keep his rigging safely on the masthead. The American 
paints his masts and often his yards white, aiming to give to 
heavy spars a light and graceful appearance. The Briton scrapes 
his mastheads and' blacks his yards, imparting to both an ap- 
pearance of massive strength and solidity. The American dec- 
orates the hull of his ship with a shining coat of paint, ' mak- 
ing her old and worn planks look as though just from the 
builders hands. The Briton coal-tars his vessebs bends, that the 
water may not penetrate to and injure the wood. The Ameri- 
can uses Manilla running rigging and patent sheaves, because they 
run better and save labor. The Briton persists in stiff hemp 
ropes and old-fashioned blocks with sheaves that make a revolu- 
tion perhaps once a voyage, because both last longer. So the 
parallel might be carried out ad hifinihun, but it would scarce 
interest any one except a sailor. 

In point of speed there may be but little difference between 
American and English vessels ; so far as durability is concerned, 
the Briton has undoubtedly the advantage — if advantage it may 
be called in these days of progress in all arts, to construct 


184 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


i. 


! 


vessels which will last until their models have been eclipsed, 
and they are only noticeable as dull sailing remnants of other 
days. 

But where grace, and fancy are concerned, and, more par- 
ticularly still, as regards devices for saving the heavy labor in 
working ship, the Briton is at least a dozen years behind the 
Yankee. Scarce an American vessel sails , that has not patent 
blocks, light, soft running rigging, winches, cleats, and fifty other 
contriv^ances for facilitating work, while all such things are ex- 
tremely rare in British vessels, and the British sailor relies yet 
upon the old-fashioned handy-billy tackle, and works ahead by 
“ main strength and stupidness,” as they say at sea. The conse- 
quence is, that American vessels carry usually about one third 
less hands than British, and get along equally as well, if not 
better. 

British seamen are, in everything, part and parcel of their 
ships. The American seaman is quick and lively. The Briton 
is slow and sedate. The Yankee endeavors to look at the 
pleasant side of life; the lime-juicer’s only pleasure is to growl. 
The former is careless and light-hearted ; the latter gets drunk 
with the same sedate and dogged perseverance with which he 
combats and overcomes the elements. The one regards life from 
a business point of view, the other does his duty — and growls. 

In point of thorough, old-fashioned seamanship the Briton 
is ahead of the Yankee. He dips deep, while the American 
skims over the surface. But the day has gone by when this 
old-fashioned seamanship was a necessary qualification. And the 


BRITISH DISCIPLINE. 


185 


proof of this lies in the fact that American ships and officers, 
with half the preparation and one quarter the sailorcraft, makes 
as fortunate if not luckier voyages than British vessels. 

During my stay in the Indies, I had often occasion to won- 
der at the entire lack of preparation displayed on board of 
American vessels, trading there from port to port. A British 
Indiaman does not start on her voyage without an ample sup- 
ply of spare spars — almost sufficient to re-spar her fore and aft. 
She carries out at least four heavy anchors and cables, besides 
a number of stream anchors and kedges. And her captain and 
mates would be thought little of were they not able to re-rig 
her from deck to truck, should she be dismasted. 

The Yankee sets sail on his long voyage with a couple of 
spare topmasts, two anchors, and a kedge, and a boundless trust 
in Providence and his own management for the rest. The 
officers are good navigators, and as to replacing a broken spar, 
they are prepared to study it out when it is needed. But of 
the two, the Yankee mostly comes out ahead. 

I found the discipline on board my new ship much dif- 
ferent from that I had been used to. The men were ordered 
about less gently, and did their work more sullenly. The line 
of separation between fore and aft was more strictly drawn. 
Each man was expected to know his duty as a seaman, and 
do it, and woe to him who in any particular fell short. 

The British sailor — poor fellow — has rights. His importance 
to the national welfare has had the effect of hedging him about 
with a barrier of preventives, to siich an extent that he cannot 



THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


1 86 

turn around but what he steps on one of the very laws enacted 
to secure him against the imposition of his superiors. The law 
prescribes that he shall have a certain allowance of provisions 
— barely enough for a man of moderate appetite — and if it 
rained victuals he could not get any more. The law provides 
that he shall be allowed his forenoon watch below, and there- 
fore the captain takes care that he shall be kept on deck all the 
afternoon. The law specifies certain duties, which the seaman 
must be able to perform ; and however unnecessary or uncalled 
for some of these may be, unless he is entirely au fait of 
them, the captain considerately docks his wages. The law pro- 
vides that the owner shall pay off his men within a certain 
number of days after the arrival of the ship at her port of dis- 
charge, and the captain and owner take care not to do so a day 
before. Thus Jack Tar, with his rights securely protected, and 
the law entirely on his side, finds himself almost altogether 
helpless, and without a single privilege. 

The allowance on our vessel was a pretty hard sample of 
living. I do not now remember the quantity, including bone, 
of beef and pork that was weighed out to each man daily, but 
I have not forgotten that it was generally eaten up at dinner,, 
and we were left for breakfast and supper to subsist on dry 
bread and tea, or coffee. 

Lobscouse, that savory mess, the almost invariable breakfast 
dish in an American ship, is only traditionally known in a lime- 
juicer, the law not reaching to that. I remember yet, with a feel- 
ing of inward shame, the greedy eyes which used to watch the 
kid of thin pea soup, to see that no one got more than his law- 


BAJV YAN. 


187- 

ful pint. And so diminutive was the duff* that a facetious fel- 
low desired to “toss up for who should have it all.” 

“ Good luck to you, Charley, and may you never see a ban- 
yan day,” was the last wish of an old shipmate, as be bade me. 
good-by, on T wharf at Boston. 

As I laughed at the whimsical wish, I did not think how 
soon I should experience all the barrenness of banyan. The 
American sailor sees no banyan day. The British sailor has one 
provided for him by law. I do not know where the expression 
originated, but it is reputed very old. The sailor’s bill of fare 
offers but three changes — beans or peas, rice and duff. These 
are alternated, so that each occurs twice a week. Of course, in 
this arrangement, one day, Saturday, is left unprovided for. This, 
in American merchant vessels, is devoted to codfish and pota- 
toes ; in men-of-war, beans supply the vacancy. In most British 
ships it is left unsupplied, and this makes a banyan day, of 
which I saw not a few while sailing under the meteor flag. 

Madras on the Coromandel coast is one of the most impor- 
tant seaports in the British possessions in the East. Those who 
first laid out the city must have had singular ideas as to what 
makes an advantageous position for a seaport. There is no har- 
bor or bay to make safe anchorage for shipping — scarcely an 
indentation in the land. V essels come to anchor at a distance 
of from a mile to two miles from the shore, with the broad 
bay of Bengal on one side and the surf-bound beach on the 
other. There is no shelter from storms, and the only way when 

* Duff is a mess composed of flour, water, and fat, mixed in proper proportions to 
make it indigestible, put in a little bag, and boiled for an hour or two before dinner. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


1 88 


% 


one comes on is to weigh anchor, or, in case of emergency, slip 
-the cable, and endeavor to make an offing, returning when the 
weather moderates. 

So strongly does the surf break on the shore, that it is 
entirely unapproachable to ship’s boats, and all communication 
with the city is held by means of surf boats, manned by naked 
■half-savage Hindoo fellows, who seem to delight in their rough 
^business. These boats discharge cargo, and bring alongside 
freight from shore. In them, passengers are taken ashore 
through the surf, thinking themselves fortunate if they get safely 
to land without a thorough drenching. It is only in fine 
weather that even the surf boats can work, and on the least 
sign of the breeze setting on shore all communication is en- 
tirely cut off. With all these disadvantages, Madras is a place 
■of much busine.ss, and the anchorage, or Roadstead, as it is styled 
by courtesy, is always studded with shipping. 

In the season of the regular Monsoons, the shipping lie 
safe enough, as the wind may then be relied upon, both as to 
strength and direction. But during the two or three months each 
year, between the changes of the Monsoons, when the wind 
has thrown off its bonds, and is so to say at liberty, Madras 
is a hazardous port. 

In these times, every precaution is taken to prevent being 
caught in one of the prevailing gales. The topsails are furled 
with a double reef in them, topgallantmasts are sent down on 
deck, the anchor is securely buoyed, that the cable may be slipped 
without danger of losing it, and everything is kept well secured 
about decks, ready at any moment to run out to sea. The crew 





t — 




\ 


'C- 


I 


MADRAS. 191 

are kept at regular sea watches, and by the rules of the port 

» 

no one but the captain is permitted to leave the vessel, and 
even he, I believe, is supposed to return on board every even- 
ing. The anchorage is at no time very quiet, and even with 
a slight breeze vessels ride bows under, pitching, rolling, and 
tossing about, much more than if under sail. 

We remained in the Roads about two weeks, merely long 
•enough to take in part of a cargo of rice, with which we 
were bound to Sydney, New South Wales. The rice was 
brought alongside in surf boats of course, and from them hoisted 
in and stowed in the hold by the crew. A surf boat load is 
not a great deal, and as on the most favorable days we did 
not receive more than five or six boat loads, we were not fully 
occupied in receiving and stowing cargo, and spent the inter- 
mediate time in working on sails. 

If a knowledge of sailmaking is a good thing on board 
an American vessel, it is thrice more valuable in a lime-juicer, 
and I found on board my new ship that a facility in hand- 
ling the palm and needle was the most valuable recommenda- 
tion I could have brought with me. My chum, George, and 
I were almost from the first received into the mate’s favor 
and spent the greater part of our voyage in the vessel, under 
the quarter-deck awning, making and mending sails. George be- 
ing an old man was at once taken into the sailmaker’s gang, 
on his saying that he understood the work ; but I, who was 
quite a stripling, and looked even more boyish than my age 
warranted, was subjected to a severe trial before I fairly won 
my way to the same place. 


192 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


In British vessels, age is eonsidered a necessary qualifica- 
tion for a seaman, and the principle seems to be, the older man 
the better sailor. A boy remains a boy, and must do a boy’s 
duty, no matter what his strength or knowledge of sailor-craft 
may be. Woe to the unlucky fellow who presumes to ship as 
seaman before he is -able to -show 'a- respectable beard. He is 
viewed by his fortunate older shipmates with a large degree of 
jealousy, and is likely to have all . his seamanship put to the 
test by the mate. 

Besides my unlucky deficiency in years and whiskers, I 
had the additional disadvantage of being a Yankee, and I found 
very shortly after we left Calcutta that the mate had deter- 
mined to see if there was no flaw in me, while the crew,, 
though sufficiently friendly, watched me with jealous eyes, de- 
termined to hold aloof from any close communion of friend- 
ship, before I had proved myself “as good a man as I had 
shipped for. ” All this was not very agreeable, but I deter- 
mined that the Yankee name should not suffer in my person, 
and with the aid of a little neatness in workmanship, which 
is easier acquired in a man-of-war than anywhere else, I left 
even the mate no cause for fault-finding. 

On board an American merchant vessel, the fact that a man 
is not familiar with some piece of work on rigging is not 
counted against him as a disgrace, provided he is otherwise a 
good hand, one whose pull on a rope can be felt, and who is 
not behindhand in a gale of wind. But with British sailors,, 
this matter is entirely different. One may be able as possible,, 
if there is found any flaw, however slight, -in his seamanship,. 


BRITISH SEAMANSHIP. 


193 


if he is so unfortunate as to get hold of work which he can- 
not do, or if he appeals to a shipmate for information on any 
point of duty, he is directly looked down upon as “no sailor.” 
Thus to have made a trip in a British vessel is considered no 
bad test of an American sailor’s merits, and to have “ weathered 
a voyage in a lime-juicer,” is something to be mentioned with 
proper pride in the forecastle. 

I was by this time tolerably mi fait of most of the 
work to be done on a vessel’s rigging ; could send down or 
receiv'^e a topgallantmast, turn in a dead-eye, or crown a hawser, 
in a seaman-like manner, and was conscious of but one deficiency 
in my knowledge of sailorcraft. I did not know how to splice 
a hawser, a difficult piece of work, requiring great neatness in 
execution, and a job which is not often necessary to be done 
on board ship. I was not without a theoretical knowledge of 
this, even, growling George having taken great pains to post 

me up thoroughly in everything of the kind, but I had never 

» 

seen it done, and feared that something of the kind would 
now be put in my hands, and I should fail to acquit myself 
creditably. So much did this trouble me, that I dreamed once 
of the mate having given me two pieces of hawser, as large 
as the mainmast, to splice, and when I was done, and just cut- 
ting: off the ends, it seemed that these ends were the mate’s 
toes. As I clipped the first one, he uttered a dreadful howl, 
and he and the hawser somehow got mixed up and changed 
into an enormous serpent, which, with rage in every feature, 
was darting toward me, when I awoke, only to find that the 
watch had been called, and it was high time to turn out. 


194 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


My fears were however needless; nothing of the kind was 
found necessary, and I passed safely the ordeal the mate had set 
for me. The consequences were that I was much more thought 
of by the crew, and that one morning at Madras, when dividing 
out work, the mate said to me : 

“ Here, my lad, bring your sail bag aft, and I’ll give you 
something to do.” And for the balance of the cruise I was of 
the sailmaker’s gang. 

Ten days were sufficient for us to take in all the rice we 
were to obtain, and we then lost no time in getting away from 
Madras. The surf-boats, which, as before mentioned, bring out 
cargo, are pulled out and back, between shore and ship, by 
means of ropes stretched along in all parts of the Roadstead, 
communicating with the landing-place on shore. These ropes 
are buoyed in various parts of the Roads, and the first thing 
necessary to be done, after coming to anchor, is to pick up 
the nearest one of the buoys, and secure to the bows the 
bight of rope attached. The surf broke on shore with great 
force, and we could see the boatmen as they cautiously 
approached its bounds, and waited for a large wave, rising on 
which, and exerting all their power to keep their boat straight, 
they were shot on shore, where a number of men were always 
in readiness to run the boat up high and dry, beyond the 
reach of the next sea. They are large, broad, heavily-built 
boats, sharp at each end, and capable, if the water was smooth, 
of carrying a large load, but on account of the surf they are 
in general but lightly loaded. The boatmen, whom long expe- 
rience has taught every peculiarity of the weather here, can 



i 


-j 


4 

A 


•1 




A HURRICANE. 


197 


tell the approach of a gale, it is said, even before the barometer 
gives notice of it, and at such times refuse to venture out to 
the shipping. 

.One of our men, who had been in Madras Roads a year 
before, related to us his experience of a storm. They had sent 
ashore about half their cargo, and received on board a quantity 
■of rice — for the boat that takes ashore goods from the ship 
brings back the return freight, it being important to keep 
enough cargo in the ship at all times to enable her to stand 
up before a gale — when the Semaphore on shore displayed the 
signals signifying the approach of a storm. Everything was at 
■once secured, in the hold and on deck, and preparations made 
to get up anchor and run out to sea. 

Before, however, they could do this, so heavy a sea had 
set in that it was found impossible to bring the ship up to 
her anchor, and as the weather looked very threatening, they 
buoyed the chain, took the bearings of their anchor buoy, and 
slipped and ran out to sea, under double-reefed topsails, with 
the hope of making an offing. 

“ We knew,” said Peters, the man who gave us this narra- 
tive, “ by the gray scud flying across all day, and the sea, 
which was getting every moment higher, that before night we 
would probably feel the full force of the storm. And accord- 
ingly we made the best of our way out to sea, thinking our- 
selves safe could we only secure an offing. But before such a 
storm as we this time saw, nothing could stand. It gradually 
freshened until sunset, when we took in all sail but a close-reefed 
maintopsail, reefed foresail, storm forestaysail, and storm mizzen. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


198 

We were obliged to keep this on her, in order, if possible, tO' 
hold our own, off shore. As the sun sank yellow and fiery 

beneath the waves, it became evident that there was a fresh hand, 
at the bellows, for the squalls were getting harder and harder, 
until the wind fairly screamed as it rushed through the tightened 
rigging. 

“The watch had just come on deck, at eight bells, eight 
o’clock, when with a burst of thunder, seeming to break from all, 
quarters at once, and a continual blaze of lightning, the real 
storm, of which the squalls had only been the precursors, was 
upon us. The old ship lay over to it, and the stout topmasts 
buckled like whip-handles, as we wallowed deeply through the 
mountain seas. The thunder was so incessant that we could not. 
hear one another speak, and the gale increased, puff after puff,, 
until it seemed as though nothing would be able to stand be- 
fore it. 

“ ‘ I wish we had the topsail and foresail in now,’ said the 
captain, ‘ it would save us some trouble.’ But it was blowing 
too hard to take in any sail, without having it blown to pieces, 
and it was better to let it fly away out of the bolt-ropes, than 
slat to pieces in clewing up. 

“ The sea had increased so that the ship was nearly un- 
manageable, and as it occasionally broke over the bow, all hands. 

had been summoned aft, to be within call, and in a safe 
place. 

“ W e knew that if the wind did not suddenly change, as 
is the way with these gales, we could weather it well enough, 
for even if the topsail was blown away, it would only be the 


DISMASTED. 


199 


trouble to bend another, when the gale moderated. But the 
worst of these storms lies in the fact that when the gale is at 
its height, the wind usually chops around suddenly, and blows 
as hard from the opposite quarter, as from that in which it 
began. These sudden alterations not only make the sea much 
worse, but place the ship between wind and sea, making it im- 
possible to trim her close to either one. 

“ Axes had been brought on deck early in the evening, 
and placed near the wheel, for use, in case we should want to 
cut away anything. The gale steadily increased until twelve 
o’clock, when it seemed to be at its height. Now came a little 
lull, and then with a crash of thunder louder than any before, 
the wind was upon us from the opposite quarter. All hands 
were on deck, awaiting the shift, but it came so suddenly and 
violently that we could not do anything with the braces. The 
topsail and foresail were caught aback, and the vessel lay down 
on her beam-ends, until we feared she would not right again. 

“ ‘ Cut away the mainmast and mizzenmast,’ shouted the cap- 
tain, through his speaking trumpet. 

“Some of us were let down to leeward with ropes made 
fast about the middle, to prevent our being swept overboard, 
while we cut away the lanyards of the lee rigging, and this 
done the mate and second mate touched their knives to the 
weather lanyards. It required but a touch, and the overstrained 
ropes gave way, and with a crash the mast swept over the 
side. All this was of course the work of a minute, and did 
not last so long as I take in telling it. 

“ Relieved of the weight of her two masts, she righted a 


200 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


little, but the foresail and foremast, upon which we had count- 
ed to pay her head off from the wind, seemed only to have 
the effect of bearing her down in the water. She was gather- 
ing stern-way, when the captain motioned to the foremast, and 
scrambling and climbing forward, along the now almost perpen- 
dicular deck, we also cut that away. This eased her, and she 
gradually righted to an even keel. 

“ As it was necessary to have something set to keep her to 
the wind, we spread a hatch tarpaulin from the stump of the 
mizzenmast to a spar fastened at the break of the poop, and 
with the aid of this little rag, about six feet long by four wide, 

we managed to keep our hulk out of the trough of the sea. 

« • 

No longer under the steadying power of the masts, she rolled 
and pitched and tossed about, as I never thought a vessel could. 
It was like being shaken about in a box. All hands had to 
fasten themselves to the rail, to prevent being literally thrown 
overboard, in her sudden rolls. 

“The gale continued until next morning. About eight 
o’clock it began to moderate, and by twelve there was but a 
gentle breeze, the sea being yet, however, quite rough. That 
evening we began our preparations for rigging jury fore and 
main masts, and after two days of incessant and severe labor 
were able to set two topgallantsails on our new masts, by the 
aid of which we slowly made our way toward Calcutta, to which 
port it was now necessary to go, in order to have the vessel 
refitted, as Madras Roads present no facilities for such work. 

“We were thirty-five days beating and drifting up to Sa\iger 
Point, and there we had to take a steamer up to the city, as 


A **> 


PUTTING IN NEW MASTS. 


201 


we had neither anchor nor cable to hold us, should it fall calm. 
In Calcutta we were obliged to have put in heavy teak masts, 
which made the old craft so crank that she would hardly stand 
up when full loaded. ” 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Sail /or Sydney — Sydney coves ^ or colonials — Their peculiarities — Jim! s yarn — Li/e. 
among the savages of New Guinea. 

W E escaped from Madras without being caught in a gale.. 

It being a stormy season, none of us got ashore to 
have a look at the place. This was of a piece with my usual 
luck, and I began to think that even in the merchant service 
it was impossible to obtain more than a distant glimpse at 
the strange places one visits. I determined, however, if we got 
to Sydney, that I would see as much of that place as appeared 
desirable, and not allow myself to be disappointed there. 

We set sail from Madras with a fair wind, glad to be rid 
of a place which presented to us all the evils of harbor life 
on board ship, without any of its reliefs. A part of our crew 
were on this occasion in as high spirits as British tars allow 
themselves to display on any account. They were what is< 
called ''Sydney coves,'’ or “colonials” — that is, old hands in the 
colony of New South Wales, who had sailed from there some 
years. These all looked upon Sydney as the only place in the 
world worth sailing from, or living in. 

These colonials are as roupfh a set of vag^abonds as one 

o o 

meets with even in a forecastle, but first-rate seamen, and 


SYDNEY COVES. 


205, 


orderly, quiet fellows withal, if they are well treated. They take 
especial pride in saying but little, and some of them rival in 
taciturnity all that is related of the American Indians. A loud 
talker gains but little credit with them, as they act upon 
the principle that talking and doing are not only different, 
but entirely incompatible things. They are generally good box- 
ers, masters of the art of self-defence, and bear about them not 
a few scars, reminiscences of past conflicts. They are very much 
disliked by officers of vessels, because, although as good men 
as ever steered a trick or passed an earing, they are quick to- 
take offence, and obstinate as mules, when once their ire is 
roused, and they imagine themselves badly used. 

In the forecastle they are very quiet; I have known one 
of them to be a week without saying a word to any one on 
board. But woe to the unfortunate who gives them offence. 
Then it is "a word and a blow, and the blow comes first.” 

Their silent habit is a peculiarity not caused by a lack of 
something to say, for he who can succeed in drawing out an 
old colonial will be amply rewarded by some as interesting 
yarns as ever were spun. Those with us had followed, besides 
sea life, the business of sheep and cattle tending. I rarely 
knew a colonial seaman who had not dipped into this business 
occasionally, for a change, and often wondered whether it was- 
not in the utter loneliness of the wild wastes of Australia that 
their singular taciturnity was first contracted. Whatever may 
have been the original moving cause, it is now a peculiar 
feature of this class, and a lively colonial would be as great: 
a singularity as an even moderately quiet Frenchman. 




JIM'S YARN. 


207 


object of great curiosity to me. His back and breast, as well 
as the back of his neck, and his arms and legs, were entirely 
covered with a mass of circles and other odd figures, pricked 
in with India ink, or some other blue pigment. To see various 
figures on a sailor’s arms, or even on other portions of his 
body, is too common to occasion remark. But this was plainly 
not the work of any sailor artist, but bore traces of savage 
workmanship. We were but a few days aboard when I learned 
incidentally that Jim had been for five years a prisoner among 
the savages on the Island of Papua or New Guinea. H e was 
much more silent than any of his comrades, and it was only 
after most persistent and repeated questioning that he at last 
told me the story of his adventures there. 

He had been cast away, or wrecked, upon the island, 
while in one of the little schooners which sail from Sydney 
for the purpose of collecting sandal-wood and tortoise-shell, in 
search of which they visit all the unfrequented isles in the vast 
Archipelago surrounding the island of New Holland. Accord- 
ing to his story, which I have no doubt was substantially true, 
as he bore about him many corroborating marks, the little 
craft in which he sailed went ashore on a small isle near the 
main coast of New Guinea, in one of the gales which often 
suddenly spring up in those latitudes without giving the mari- 
ner any notice of their approach. 

They had made some excellent bargains of sandal-wood, 
with the natives on various isles they had visited, and had 
collected sufficient tortoise-shell to make them a good voyage ; 
consequently were nearly homeward bound, when their schooner 


208 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


was driven ashore, and all hands fell into the power of the 
natives. 

These natives belonged to the main island, New Guinea,, 
having only paid a chance visit in their canoes to this part 
of the Aroo group. After the gale subsided, and they had 
gathered what few things were washed ashore from the wreck 
of the schooner, they returned with the crew, now their prison- 
ers, to what may be called the mainland. Here my friend 
and his shipmates were divided out among different parties, and 
he had reason to believe that most of his companions were 
eaten when they were sufficiently fattened to be suitable for 
that purpose. 

Such was also the fate in preparation for him, from which 
a mere accident saved him. He had belonged some years be- 
fore to the armorer’s gang on board a British man-of-war, and 
had there learned considerable of the blacksmith’s handicraft.. 
Now, iron is the only precious metal of the natives of the 
South Sea Islands — for it they will part with anything they 
have, and will even peril life and limb to obtain sufficient for 
a spear-head, or a spike for one of their immense clubs. Quite 
a quantity had been gathered from the wrecked vessel, and the 
party to whose lot Jim had fallen, had as their share several 
large pieces, a chain plate, and a few spikes. This they imme- 
diately set about getting into such shapes as they desired.. 
But with their lack of tools and ignorance of the best way 
to work it, they made but poor headway. 

Jim was one day looking on while the chief was vainly 
attempting to break in two the chain plate, when the idea 


I 





1 












I 

















f 


TA TTOOING. 


209 


Struck him that he could be of material aid to them, and 
thus perhaps save himself from the fate which lay before him. 
He explained to his owners that fire was necessary in order 
to effect their purpose with the bar of iron. They acted upon 
his suggestion, and rubbing two sticks of wood rapidly to- 
gether, soon had a bright blaze. By means of this, Jim quickly 
brought the iron to a red heat, and then cut it in two with 
a chisel which happened to be among the spikes in the pos- 
session of the natives. 

This at once proclaimed him a valuable man to his cap- 
tors, and after a counsel held, it was resolved to adopt him 
into the tribe, provided he could bear the pain of being tattooed 
in like manner with themselves. No time was lost in sub- 

mitting him to the operation, and he, who knew well enough 
that to exhibit anything but the most stoical indifference to the 
torture would seal his fate, took care not to give vent to a 
murmur, although the pain must have been excruciating. Prac- 
tised with fine needles, in the hand of a skilful manipulator, 
the tattooing is sufficiently painful — how much more so must 
it be when the instruments used are naught but scraps of shells, 
sharpened, when necessary, by being broken off afresh. With 
these and the liquor obtained from the cuttlefish, or rock 
squid, as it is called by sailors, my friend was covered from 
head to foot with a solid mass of fanciful figures. The entire 
operation lasted some six months, as one part was necessarily 
allowed to heal before another was commenced. 

During this time his party had moved a considerable dis- 

♦ 

tance inland, stopping from time to time to hunt the kangaroo, 


2 lO 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


upon which, and a species of bread-fruit, with such fish as 
they could catch when on the sea-coast, they subsisted. Dur- 
ing all this time he was kept busy at his iron work. Using 
a stone for an anvil, and a piece of iron for sledge-hammer, he 
forged sev^eral arrow and spear heads, which gave immense sat- 
isfaction, and raised him to an enviable place in the good 
opinions of his cannibal friends, who appear from henceforth to 
have given over all ideas of making provender of him. He 
was shortly initiated formally into their tribe and provided with 
a wife, which was the only property not held entirely in com- 
mon in the community. His tribe now wandered about from 
one portion of the island to the - other, never departing far fronf 
the sea-coast, for somewhat over a year and a half. By this time 
he had become quite expert in their manner of throwing the 
spear, their principal weapon of offence and defence, and for the 
chase; and being an active man, was equal to any of his masters 
in all the artifices by which they gain their subsistence from the 
wild beasts of the forests. 

At this time the tribe of which he had become a member 
Sfot into difficulties with one of the others relative to the owner- 

c5 

ship of an iron spike, one of the relics of Jim’s schooner, and 
a war was the consequence. In this Jim was, of course, obliged 
to take part, and he so distinguished himself that, on the death 
of the old chief, he was unanimously chosen to fill his place. 

This accession of dignity necessitated the performance of an- 
other small piece of tattooing. A collar, namely, was to be 
placed upon his neck, and a few circles upon his cheeks. But 
to one whose entire body was only one mass of scars, such trifles 


ir 


I 



I 


f1%J^ 



VIEW IN A FORI 



GUINEA 







JIM IS ADOPTED. 


2 I I 


of torture were as nothing. He entered upon his new offiee 
and in two energetic battles brought the war to a close, his 
tribe remaining in undisputed possession of the iron treasure. 

Jim had now arrived at the very pinnacle of greatness. 
He was master over some hundred naked savages, dignified 
with a collar, tattooed into his neck, and was entitled to 

the first mouthful of a mess of wood worms (a dainty dish 
of these people, as well as of the natives of Australia), and the 
choicest piece of a roasted prisoner of war. Yet he was far 

from contented. He longed to return to a state of civilization, 
and the principal advantage he took of the power placed in 
his hands was to keep his subjects as near the sea-coast as 

possible, in the hope that some passing trader would stop to 

barter, and he would thus be enabled to make his escape from 
this living tomb. 

Being very illiterate, he had long ere this lost all reckon- 
ing of time, all days being the same, and there not beino- suffi- 
cient change in the seasons to enable him even to guess at the 
months. Thus he lived on for five long years, in all which 

time he saw but two vessels, neither one passing sufficiently 
near to the land to enable him to attract their notice by sig- 
nals. These occasions proved to him that his tribe were not 
disposed to let him go without a struggle, and that they sus- 
pected his desire to leave them ; for at sight of the ships they 
quickly hurried him off into the woods. 

' When he had been about three years and a half upon 

the island, according to his computation, the iron which was 
obtained at the wreck had been in great ])art used up or lost, 


2 I 2 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


and most of his tribe were reduced to the necessity of using sharp 
shells for heads to their long light spears. Jim now endeavor- 
ed to stir their avarice (for iron is to these people like gold 
to their more civilized brethren) by telling them that if they 
could only speak a vessel, they could get, in exchange for sandal- 
wood, with which the coast abounds, as much of the pre- 
cious metal as their hearts could desire. This set them upon the 
lookout ; but no vessel appeared. 

Poor Jim was almost in despair, and had nearly given up 
all hope of ever being so fortunate as to return to the socie- 
ty of white men, when meeting a strange tribe one day, whom 
a scarcity of kangaroos had driven down to the sea-coast in search 
of shellfish, he learned incidentally that at a point some two 
hundred miles from them, as near as he could compute from 
the story, but certainly east of them, two strange vessels touched 
annually for trading purposes. The crew were not whites, 

and from the description he judged them to be Arabs or Ma- 
lays ; but there were vessels, and they traded, and this was suffi- 
cient evidence that the people were at least less savage than 
the Papuans. Hope once more glowed in his bosom, and he 
determined to make his way eastward until the* desired haven 
should be attained. 

Making glowing representations to his subjects of the riches 
they would obtain, could they reach the trading station in time 
to meet one of the vessels, they were at length induced to 
turn their tardy steps that way. Fishing and hunting, and re- 
maining for days in one place, when they found an abundance 
of food, it was yet a year and a half before they at last reached 


f 


213 


HE BECOMES CHI EE. 

a little bay, where the glad sight of a Malay proa cheered 
his breast. The tribe quickly gathered a quantity of sandal- 
wood on the neighboring hills, and with this they approached 
the vessel. Here they found the crew fully armed and pre- 
pared to defend themselves against any assaults of the treach- 
erous natives. But one boat was allowed to approach the 
vessel at a time, and but one man from that boat was per- 
mitted to come on board. This boat Jim determined should 
be his — this man would be himself. And paying no heed to 
some objections urged by his companions, he embarked a por- 
tion of sandal-wood in an old canoe which he found upon 
the shore, and started off for the proa. 

Arriving alongside, he clambered on deck with an agility 
that somewhat surprised the Malays, who saw in the wretched 
stark naked creature before them only a native. Constant ex- 
posure to the sun and weather had turned his skin to nearly 
the color of the islanders, and the barbarous tattooing with which 
he was disfigured, sufficiently completed the disguise. 

Arrived on board, he was only involved in a new per- 
plexity. How was he to make himself known to the Malays 
as an Englishman ? He could not speak their tongue, and 
even if they understood a few words of English, they would 
not believe a statement which his appearance so strongly con- 
tradicted. As this thought shot through his mind, poor fellow, 
his heart sank, and he was nearly giving up all hope. Neverthe- 
less, he determined to try, and hauling his sandal-wood on 
deck, to attract the attention of the crew, he advanced to the 
captain and uttered the words, “ Me English.’^ 


214 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



How strange they sounded to his ears — these words of 
English. The captain looked at him a moment, then burst out 
in a loud laugh at the idea that one of the savages had some- 
how gathered up two words of English. Poor Jim repeated his 
asseveration, with distressed earnestness, “ Me English, captain, 
me English sailor.” 

Not a shadow of perplexity even darkened the captain’s 
countenance, as he turned to some of his men, and remarked 
(as Jim afterward learned) upon the singularity of this native 
having caught up some words of the English language. 

Jim was in despair ; but now an idea struck him. Eagerly 
grasping the end of a piece of the coir rigging lying upon 
deck, he formed upon his hand, and on the standing rigging, 
several of the knots with which the seamen of ail nations are 
familiar. 

At this spectacle a light seemed to dawn upon the captain’s 
face, and he looked inquiringly at him a few moments. The 
suspense was too great, and Jim, bursting into tears, muttered 
beseechingly, “ Me English, captain, take me to Singapore.” 

The curiosity of the crew was now thoroughly aroused, and 
they crowded about him, and examined him more narrowly than 
they had before done. Lifting up his arms, Jim showed them 
where two white spots were yet left on him, and they were now 
speedily satisfied that he was truly an English sailor. 

In a few broken words of English, the captain asked him 
how he came there, and Jim, part in his native tongue, and part 
by lively pantomime, explained his history to them, and asked 
them to take him along with them. This was, after consulta- 


RESIDENTS OF MALAY GROUP, 



\ 




THE MALAY TRADER. 


2 I 7 

tion, agreed to, if Jim could get a load of sandal-wood for 
them. 

Although reluctant to set foot on shore again, he was 
obliged to acceed to the captain’s proposal, and taking some 
old iron, beads, and looking-glasses ashore, in return for what 
he had brought on board, he proceeded to the rather arduous 
task of getting the natives there assembled, several tribes, to 
gather immediately a quantity of the required wood. 

The fact of* his having come back to them, apparently 
voluntarily, lulled to rest any suspicions of his fidelity to them, 
which they might previously have entertained, and this renewed 
confidence gave the greater force to his commands. The sight 
of the articles he had brought off, especially the iron, stirred 
up also their avarice, and seeing what appeared to them vast 
riches, within their grasp, they set to heartily, and in two days 
had sufficient wood gathered to load the proa. 

Meantime the crew of the vessel were keeping strict watch 
on board, to provide against any hostile attempts by the natives. 
The crews of the vessels, British as well as Arab and Malay, 
whieh cruise after sandal-wood, could oftentimes fill up their 
craft in a short time themselves, were it not that to go ashore 
for that purpose would be to rush rashly on destruction, as 
the natives are always ready to attack a vessel which is not 
fully guarded. The prospect of securing the treasures of iron 
, and other material, to be found in such a prize, would make 
them brave every danger, if there was the slightest hope of 
their success in an attack. It is therefore found necessary to 
barter with the savages, and even then to use every precau- 
tion against treachery. 


2i8 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


On the third day Jim had the satisfaction to see piled 
upon the beach a quantity of sandle-wood sufficient to fill 
the narrow hold of the little proa, and again he went along- 
side in his canoe, to make the final arrangements respecting 
its transfer to the vessel, and his deliverance from captivity. 
It was arranged that for every canoe load of wood brought 
off, he should take ashore an equivalent in iron, trinkets, and 
bright-colored cloth ; that meanwhile the vessel should be quietly 
gotten ready for sailing at a moment’s notice, and when he was 
near the end of his wood pile, the little kedge which held 
the proa was to be quickly weighed, the lug sail hoisted, while 
he, staving the canoe, should jump aboard, as the vessel stood 
seaward. 

One of the peculiarly favoring circumstances for Jim was, 
that the party, or tribe of natives to whom this little harbor 
really belonged, had a few days before the arrival of the Malays, 
gone, in their fleet of canoes, upon a warlike expedition to 
another portion of the island, leaving but two or three rickety 
canoes in the entire neighborhood. Had they all been there, 
his escape would have been rendered almost hopeless, as in 
their exasperation the natives would doubtless have attacked 
the proa, and perhaps overcome her by dint of superior num- 
bers. Supposing, which was not likely, that the Malay captain 
would under such circumstances have consented to receive him 
on board. 

As the moment drew near which was to decide his fate, and 
either ^ive him his freedom or consio^n him to a slavery more 
hope!' than ever before, it may be imagined that poor Jim’s 










VIEW I 






; 








i 



JIM'S ESCAPE. 


2ig 

heart grew faint with fear that some unthought-of accident 
might defeat his - well-laid scheme. Should the natives conclude 
to put some one else in the boat, and retain him ashore, or 
should the wind fail, or, worse yet, the fleet of boats suddenly 
heave in sight, he knew that his first, perhaps his only, chance 
for deliverance was gone. But luckily the breeze held, the boats 
did not make their appearance, and the natives appeared to 

think of anything else but his escape. 

When yet full two canoe loads remained upon the beach, 
Jim determined that he would venture no more. While along- 
side, and slowly passing in the wood, the anchor was silently run 
up to the bows, and, overturning the canoe with his foot, with a 
shout of exultation my friend jumped aboard, and with hearty 
swigs pulled up the mainsail, while the captain steered the 
vessel out of the harbor. 

For some moments the savages did not comprehend the 

drift of the manoeuvre, so completely had Jim’s actions of the 
previous day won upon their confidence; but when they saw 
him pulling lustily at the halyards, and the vessel gathering 
headway toward the harbor’s mouth, they set up a roar of 
angry disappointment, and rushed wildly up and down the 
beach, calling upon him to come back. 

Having a fair wind, however, they were soon out of 

hearing and sight of Jim’s savage comrades, and next morning 
no longer saw the land. The Malay captain supplied him with 
some clothing, the first he had worn since, five years before, 
his own had been taken from him by the natives; and he 

began once more to assume the forms of civilization. Twenty 


220 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 




days brought the vessel to Singapore, where he was at length 
among his countrymen ; but so much altered and defaced that 
he found it difficult to persuade any one of the fact that he 
was an Englishman. 

During his long captivity he had forgotten many words 
of English, and at first expressed himself very awkwardly ; 
but a voyage in a British vessel to Calcutta made him once 
more at home among old scenes. Only one thing he never 
more got accustomed to : this was to wear shoes. His feet, 
he complained, had gotten tender by long tramping about 
among rocks and shells, and shoes were a great inconvenience 
to him. On board ship he never used them, and when ashore 
the softest pumps were his only wear. 

Of the manners of the savages he had but little to tell 
me. The men wore no clothing whatever. The women wore 
slight coverings of the large leaves of a species of palm. 
Being a wandering people, they had no regularly built habita- 
tions. In fine weather they slept under shelter of the trees, 
and even often climbed up into them to secure a more com- 
fortable resting-place. In wet weather, during the periodical 

rains, they chose a site where to remain during their continu- 
ance, and then constructed rude huts of sticks, roofed with 
leaves, and generally set up on posts, as the earth was too 
wet to rest upon, and here they hovered in dismal discomfort, 
till the return of the pleasant season. 

Although apparently devoid of energy in most respects, 
they were passionate, quickly roused to anger, and even jealous. 
Although destitute to the last degree, they w^ere avaricious for 


PARTICULARS OF THE SAVAGES. 


22 1 


the possession of such articles as they placed value upon, 
among which iron was evidently chief. Hence arose frequent 
wars between different tribes, in which the prisoners were in 
great part used to satisfy the hunger of their captors. The 
kangaroo and several smaller animals, and numerous birds, to- 
gether with such shellfish as they could gather upon the 
beach, formed their only subsistence, and when game was 
scarce they often fared poorly enough. 

One article of food, besides, Jim mentioned to me — the 
worms found in decayed wood. A mess of these was con- 

sidered a great luxury, and he declared, in telling me the story, 
that after he got used to them, they really tasted very well. 
They were roasted in large shells over a fire. 

Of fruits, there appear to have been hut few, compared 
with the usual plenty of tropical countries, and with these he 
was not familiar. Of birds, there was a great variety, and they 
frequently caught parrots and other birds, and used them for 
food.. 

Their dead they buried in a shallow hole dug in the 

ground at some distance from their then abiding place. He 

spoke highly of their dexterity in throwing their rude spears 
and of the ingenious artifices used to surprise and capture the 
kangaroo. 

The people he described as of rather short stature, per- 

fectly black, and with curly hair almost like a negro’s.* Their 

* Jim's hair was black, and curled very closely, a circumstance which in all proba- 
bility made his recognition as a white man, by the Malay captain, more difficult than it 
otherwise would have been. 


222 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


features were thoroughly African, in some cases even exagger- 
atedly so. Jim seemed to have fallen into the hands of the 
very lowest class of the natives of New Guinea. He said 
he was frequently told by natives of tribes they met, of 
a people, occupying the inland portion of the island, who had 
houses, and cultivated the land, and who, from the rude descrip- 
tions given of them, must have attained to a considerable degree 
of civilization. But his tribe strenuously objected to holding 
any intercourse with these, fearing that they would be by them 
made to work, z. c. made slaves of. Jim, indeed, was not himself 
very willing to leave the coast, as there lay his only hope of 
ever being returned to a civilized land. And he feared, should 
he once get among the more civilized natives, they would pre-. 
vent him from returninof ao^ain to the sea-shore. 

o o 

So ended his story. Had he been a man of some degree 
of education, and of an energetic and inquisitive character, the 
civilized world miofht have been indebted to him for a most 
interesting account of a land which is as yet more thoroughly 
terra incognita than the heart of Africa; for nowhere on the 
entire island have whites penetrated more than a mile or two 
from shore, and even that only in a few spots, and in hasty in- 
cursions, giving no time for observation. As it was, Jim’s only 
object seems to have been to watch for a vessel by which he 
could make his escape. Said I to him one day : 

“ If I had been in your place, I should have struck in- 
land, and taken my chance of what might happen.” 

“ But the. tribe I was with would not go, even had I been 
desirous to do so, and what could I do, naked and alone, in 


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JV£^V GUINEA. 


223 


the vast woods, without even having any distinct idea of the 
course which would lead me to a more civilized place. And 
then, to turn myself away from the only avenue for escape 

from a life-long bondage — I could not do it.” 

It must not be thought that this long story was told me 
by Jim, just as I have written it. His habitual taciturnity 

would not have given way so far as to spin such a yarn 
“ right off the reel.” It was only by dint of most persistent 
and adroit questioning, taking him when he was in his best 
humor, generally in the night watches, when he had just com- 
pleted his trick at the wheel — a season of good humor gen- 
erally with sailors — that I obtained it. Here a little and there 
a little, I picked up all his experience, and had I not, by the 

practice of various little arts, made myself a favorite with him, 
I should never have gotten any of it. Although not adher- 
ing strictly to the language of the narrator, I have taken care 

% 

to give the facts just as they were stated to me. 






Vi' t " 



CHAPTER XV. 


Sydney — Sailo7‘s amusements — Tired of the shore — Looking for a vovage — Ship — The 
brig Ocean — Her crew — Description of the vessel — Nearly a quarrel. 


UR passage to Sydney lasted forty-five days. Here, after 


discharging our cargo, the crew were paid off, and with 
six pounds sterling received as my wages, and some money 
brought with me from the United States, I went ashore. On 
uniting our funds, George and I found ourselves the possessors 
of eighty dollars, quite a large sum of rhoney for two sailors. 
We determined to remain on shore till we were heartily tired 
of it; and to make the cash hold out, I, who was the stead- 
ier of the two, was appointed keeper of the purse, with an 
agreement that only a certain sum per diem should be given 
out. 

First we purchased a few necessary articles of clothing 
and a chest for our joint use. Your true sailor will generally 
be found to have a good chest of sea clothing. In this he 

takes much pride, and let him be as drunken a fellow as may 
be, to replenish it he spends a large part of the proceeds of 
every voyage. Experience has taught him that in this matter 
delay is dangerous, and his first outlay, before he ventures on 
a spree, is with the tailor or slop-seller. Having filled his chest 



6 ' YDNE V. 


22 $ 

with the various flannels, dungarees, oil-cloths, etc., needed, the" 
balance he considers himself at liberty to use as inclination 
prompts him, leaving any deficiencies in his board bill or grog 
money to be settled for out of the never-failing month's advance. 

I had imagined Sydney to be a rather rambling and ill- 
constructed, dirty colonial town, such as one not unfrequently 
meets with in the British colonies. I was, therefore, agreeably 
astonished to find it, with the exception of the more ancient 
portion of the city, a regularly laid-out and well-built place, 
the streets and public buildings of which would have been 
no discredit to an European seaport of its size. There was, 
too, a finished appearance about it which I had hardly expect- 
ed to see, and many of the larger buildings had quite an 
ancient look. Everything about the place was peculiarly Eng- 
lish,* and when I got into the quarter in which are located 
the sailor’s boarding-houses, had it not been for the strong 
dash of colonial recklessness and extravagance everywhere per- 
ceptible, I could have easily imagined myself in some seaport 
of England — London or Liverpool. 

The English, particularly of the lower classes, of which 
almost the entire population of Sydney, rich and poor, at that 
time was composed, are a people of peculiar habits and man- 
ners, which they carry with them, and resolutely introduce 
wherever they may wander. And I found here all the prom- 
inent characteristics of the Englishman fully perhaps a little 


* This was before the discovery of gold in the colony of New South Wales. The 
Sydney of to-day is probably quite a different place. 


226 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


extravagantly developed. It was just as though a portion of 
London or Liverpool had been by some magic power removed 
to this extreme end of the world. 

The city is very pleasantly situated, a part on a rising 
ground, a kind of promontory, and a part in the adjoining 
valley. It fronts on Sydney Cove, a secure harbor about seven 
miles from the capes or headlands which form Port Jackson 
Bay. 

One 'of the principal amusements here for sailors is horse- 
riding. As my chum, George, was fully intent upon seeing all 
of “ life ” that was to be seen, he of course must go horse- 
riding too, while I wandered about town to get a look at the 
most noteworthy places. The Parramatta Road is the theatre 
of Jack’s horsemanship, and thither George, in company with 
some of our late shipmates, proceeded one afternoon on a 
parcel of as hard-mouthed beasts as even sailors usually get 
hold of. The party did not return till late at night, when I 
was already in dreamland, and I saw nothing of George till 
next morning, when he appeared before my bed with as rue- 
ful a face as he could put on, and proposed to go down after 
breakfast and hunt a ship. 

“ I want to get out of this confounded place. I rode 
about yesterday till I’m as sore this morning as though some 
one had beaten me with a stick, and now those fellows want 
me to go out again. It’s an imposition. They call this a 
good port, but they don’t know what good is,” growled he. 

I suggested to him that there was no law compelling him 
to ride on horseback. 


TIRED OF THE SHORE. 


227 


“ Well, but what is a poor fellow to do ? I’m not going 
■to loaf about the town all day. And there’s nothing else to 
see. I’ll have to get drunk to pass away the time.” 

“ Let’s go cattle-tending, George.” 

“Mention cattle-tending again, and I’ll use a cowhide on 
you. Do you want to make a live mummy of yourself ? Let’s 
go down and ship.” 

Thus it is with the sailor. He is all eagerness to get 
ashore, and is hardly there before he is glad to get away 
again. Having no friends, and debarred by his calling and his 
dress, if not by lack of education, from intercourse with any 
but those of his own class, a few days suffice to tire him of 
the stupid amusements into which he is dragged, often against 
his will ; he becomes thoroughly wearied, and is almost forced, 
if he can’t get a ship, to get drunk, as my old chum proposed 
to do, in mere self-defence. 

To me, too, the time would soon have begun to grow 
.'tedious. A few days sufficed to let me see all that was acces- 
sible to me, a sailor. To take a trip into the country, which 
I would have much liked, I lacked means, and also friends to 
expedite me on my way. I therefore agreed to George’s pro- 
posal, putting off the execution of it, however, to next day. 
For that day we hired a carriage, and made the driver take us 
•through every street in the city accessible to a four-wheeled 
vehicle, and then out into the country, on the road leading to 
.Botany Bay, returning in time to get our supper. 

Next morning we proceeded to seek for a ship. I wished 
much to make a voyage in one of the sandal-wood hunters 


228 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


which sail from here — the kind of vessel in which my friend Jim: 
had been wrecked — but there were just then none in port, and 
I was compelled to give up my project, mentally determining to 
put it' in execution at some future time. Sailors were in 
demand just at that time in Sydney, and we did not lack offers 
of voyages. But I was determined to be suited before I ship- 
ped, and did not therefore allow George to engage himself till 
we had taken a good look around. 

We settled at length upon a colonial brig, which was about 
to proceed to Lombok, there to take in a cargo of rice, to carry 
to Macao or Whampoa. It promised to be a novel voyage, and 
the brig was a likely vessel. The crew — she was to carry ten 
hands before the mast — were good-looking men, and the officers 
had a good name. Above all, we were promised our discharge 
when we got to China, and with this additional inducement 
George and I were satisfied to put our names to the articles of 
the good brig Ocean, of Sydney, at three pounds per month, 
a7id small stores. By this latter clause is meant that the vessel 
would furnish us with tea and sugar, it being the praetice, with 
many English owners and captains, to make their men furnish 
these essentials, and sueh other luxuries as come properly under 
the denomination of small stores, paying them in such cases a 
slight increase on their regular wages. 

The brig was to sail in a few days, but her crew was wanted 
on board immediately, a circumstance at which I heartily re- 
joiced, as it would save us money. On counting up our balance 
of cash on hand, I found that George and I had spent, including 
clothing and boarding, fifty dollars in a little less than two 


THE COLONIAL BRIG. 


229 


weeks, leaving us thirty. One month’s advance to each of us — 
fifteen dollars — increased our store to sixty dollars, a vast deal 
more than sailors generally take to sea with them. But we were 
going to China, and I wanted every dollar we could get. 

Three days after shipping, we sailed for our first port, Lom- 
'bok. Our crew was composed entirely of “ Sydney Coves,” all 
-lank, stout, silent fellows, who “ did their duty and asked odds of 
no man,” as they significantly said. The vessel was “colonial” 
too, as before mentioned, and I found her discipline to differ 
greatly from that of English vessels. A regular allowance of 
provisions was served out, as in the latter, but these were of 
better quality, and there was no banyan day. Everything was 
of the best, and the cook, who received a severe admonition to 
do his duty (from one of the crew), on the first day out, got up 
.any kind of a mess that the forecastle chose to suggest. 

But the greatest difference was in the treatment of the men 

o 

by the officers. There was no haughty ordering here and there, 
such as British mates and captains delight in ; no unnecessary 
■pulling and hauling, no making spun yarn, or other contrivances 
to keep the men busy. Everything was conducted in a very 
■quiet way. Orders were given, but the mode of fulfilment in 
general intrusted to the men themselves, who, being thorough 
seamen, took proper pride in doing well what was given them. 

We had reofular watch and watch, and no work was done 
after four o’clock in the afternoon. There was none of the usual 
hurrying up. Each one, in consequence, did his work with a will. 
When sail was to be shortened, or the topsails reefed, the laying 
■of the yards, and hauling up clewlines or reef tackles, was left 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


230 

in great measure in the hands of the men themselves, and we 
of course took care to make the work as light as possible. 
And among the crew there was no holding back ; every one 
knew his station, and jumped there when he was required.. 
Altogether, we passed a very quiet and peaceable life, and to 
me a very pleasant one. 

How such discipline would work with any other than 
Colonials, it would be difficult to say. Of course, unless the- 
crew were thorough seamen, it would lead in many cases to 
confusion. With such a rough and quick-tempered set as we* 
had, it was the only plan. They themselves made the rules by 
which their officers were forced to abide.- The captain knew 
quite well that to give them just cause of offence would be to- 
provoke a retaliation which would be far from pleasant. And 
the crew, with a kind of feeling of honor, which I have often 
noticed in such characters as theirs, abstained scrupulously from 
taking any undue advantage of the power which they felt them- 
selves possessed of 

Only once during our voyage did a misunderstanding occur. 
It was before we reached Lombok, and while we were sailing 
through the trades. We were about to paint the brig inside. 
It was intended to commence the work on Monday morning,, 
and on the Sabbath evening before, the mate, who had been' 
taking a little more grog during the day than was promotive of 
a clear understanding, ordered the watch on deck to come aft and’ 
lift aside some spare topsails, preparatory for the morrow’s work. 
One of the men quietly remarked that it was Sunday, and it 
was not customary to work on that day. 


SYDNEY JOHN'S REPLY. 


23 r 


“ Come aft this instant, and don’t talk to me of Sunday, or 
I’ll keep you at work every Sunday during the cruise,” shouted 
the drunken mate, highly excited. 

“ You’d better come and take us aft,” was the answer to this. 

All hands came up out of the forecastle, and it was at once 
understood that the order was not to be obeyed. The mate was 
by this time aware that he was getting himself into trouble, and 
when the sound of handspikes being gathered up, in readiness 
for a row, struck upon his ear, he dove down into the cabin to 
ask the skipper’s advice. 

The latter immediately came upon deck, and glancing for 
a moment over the crowd collected about the windlass, called the 
oldest of the seamen by name, desiring him to come aft. This 
he did, and the captain, who felt, of course, bound to support his 
mate, even if he was wrong, represented to John that the matter 
required was a mere trifle ; that it would establish no precedent ; 
that the mate was anxious to get at the painting as early as 
possible on the following day, and finally wound up by re- 
minding him that disobedience to orders was mutiny, and that 
in such cases he, the captain, was empowered to proceed to 
extreme measures. 

John heard him through, then said very dryly, “Captain, if 
you knew how little I cared about you, you’d be surprised,” 
and walked forward to the forecastle. 

How much the captain was surprised at this thoroughly 
characteristic remark, it would be hard to tell, but there was 
no more said about moving the spars, and we were never 
after called upon for any Sunday work. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A yarn of sandal-wood himting — Arrival at Lo7nhok — The natives — Chinese residents — 
Manner of life of the people — Take in cargo — The country-wallah — Her crew. 

O ETTING aside the little inconveniences and crosses which 
^ are unavoidable in every ship, and which merely served 
the purpose of enabling my worthy chum, George, to relieve 
himself of his superfluous bile, I think I never enjoyed any voy- 
age so much as this in the brig Ocean. Our course lay 
through a nearly uninterrupted succession of fine weather, in 
which the dark little forecastle was almost entirely deserted, 
and we all slept and lived on deck. We were as nearly our 
own masters as it is good for sailors to be, and with an 
experienced and thoroughly united crew, we could scarcely fail 
of being tolerably contented. 

As for myself, I lived in an atmosphere of romance. The 
voyage was a novel one, and quite out of the usual line of 
such sailors as I had been most among. And the past expe- 
riences of my shipmates, as communicated to one another and 
to me in the pleasant dog-watches, as we lay on deck in the 
half light of the bright stars, with soft zephyrs wafting us 

along, were an inexhaustible source of interest to me. 

Some of these men had not been the other side of the 
Cape of Good Hope for manv years. They had sailed from 


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PITC/I 







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y ‘ 





YARNING. 


233 


-Sydney, in every direction, to the most out-of-the-way places, 
and on the strangest errands. India, China, the Ladrones, the 
Philippines, and the island world of the South Pacific ; with 
all they were familiar, of each they had something to relate.' 
Here I heard over again the story of the Christian settlement 
on Pitcairn’s Island, which had formed one of our Sunday- 
■school volumes at home. But how much pleasanter to listen 
to the tale as it had been told one of my shipmates by a 
descendant of Thursday October Christian himself Numberless 
whaling adventures, fights with savages, and incidents in the 
strange voyages of the country ships, as well as one or two 
experiences of life on the cattle and sheep farms — the relation 
of these occupied our idle time, and afforded me many pleas- 
ant hours. 

I was the youngest seaman on board, and found no diffi- 
culty in making myself a favorite among my older shipmates, 
by readiness in jumping aloft when light sails were to be 
loosed or furled, and by general willingness to do the duty 
■of a “ light hand.” Then, too, my inexperience in the change- 
ful life they had led made them feel a flattering superiority 
to me, which, as it was not unpleasant, I did not seek to do 
away with. And the consequence was, that I was always called 
for when any yarning was going on ; and often, when my trick 
at the wheel would occur just as some one was in the midst 
of an interesting story, one of the older hands would bid me 
sit still, while he steered mv trick for me. 

I said one day that if I ever got back to Sydney I 
would make a voyage in a sandal-wood hunter. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



“H ere’s Long Tom, Charley,” said one in answer, “he’s 
been in those craft for the last two years. You had better 
get him to take you in tow. He can pick you out the v^ery 
■boat for a good voyage.” 

“Tom promised us a yarn about his last trip,” remarked 
one of the others. 

“Come, a yarn, a yarn, boys,” sung out another, and at the 
word we gathered upon the forecastle, with our pea-jackets, 
and arranged ourselves in comfortable positions to listen to 
the varn. 

“Who has the next helm?” 

“ I do,” answered one of the starboard watch. 

“ Then do you stow yourself outside, so that you won’t 

disturb any one when you get up to go aft.” 

This being done, and all hands being arranged in various 
positions about Long Tom, a lank, but by no means slender 
six-footer, he, after a little coquetting, declaring the yarn not 
worth relating, etc., finally bit off the customary quantity of 
pig tail, and clearing his throat, began as follows: 

“You know, shipmates, or most of you do, that on board 
of those craft that go out upon the look for sandal-wood 

and tortoise-shell, the crew are not shipped at set wages — so 
much a month and small stores — but go upon a regular lay,, 

like whalemen; only, my word, it’s a better and more paying 

lay than any whaling that I ever saw. The Eliza Jane — she 
was named after the skipper’s wife — was a pretty little colonial- 
built craft, brigantine rigged, steering and working easily, and 
sailing much better than the generality of colony-built vessels. 


SANDAL-WOOD HUNTING. 


235 ' 


“We carried a stout crew for so small a craft, twelve men 
before the mast, captain, two mates, cook, and steward. We 
could man two whale boats, which hung at davits upon the 
quarters, and yet leave on board as .many men to keep ship 
as could have worked her anywhere she could go. We ship- 
ped upon a lay of one ninety-ninth — that is to say, one pound 
sterling out of every ninety-nine of the proceeds of the cargo 
was each man’s share. This was a lay which gave us promise 
of a good voyage,' and we sailed from Sydney in high spirits. 

“ We were all old shipmates, and a better crew, I’ll vent- 
ure to say, never sailed out of Port Jackson Bay than that of the 
Eliza Jane. All of us had been whaling, which the skipper 
made a necessary condition to shipping a man, as he intended 
to visit some islands which he had found on his last voyage 
to be entirely deserted, where he expected to pick up a large 
portion of his cargo. He had the name of being a smart fel- 
low in his chosen business — for he had never followed any other 
— and was well known for the many narrow escapes he had had 
from falling into the hands of the natives, and for his readi- 
ness to venture anywhere and everywhere where sandal-wood 
and tortoise-shell were to be found. 

“ We expected to do a good deal of boating. This, as it 
is generally done on a surf-bound beach, is wet work, but, after 
all, pleasanter and more exciting than trading with savages- 
through the meshes of a boarding-netting, and keeping an 
armed watch day and night, for fear of a surprise. Our trading 
cargo consisted of an assortment of old and new spikes, and 
variously sized scraps and pieces of iron, scarlet-colored cloth,. 


236 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


beads, tobacco, looking-glasses, trinkets of various kinds, knives, 
hatchets, and a large box full of old clothes, probably the 
stock-in-trade of some second-hand clothing store in Sydney. 
We had the forecastle to ourselves, and were allowed to take 
out a small private venture of our own, with permission to stow 
the proceeds in our bunks. 

Our course was shaped for tiie islands known as Solomon's 
Archipelago, where we were to make some trade with the 
natives. This extensive group vvas to be our principal cruising 
ground although the mate told us that we should sail over 
toward the Louisiade group, should we not do as well as the 
skipper desired. This is the great cruising ground for sandal- 
wood hunters, and among these islands they not unfrequently 
meet with large quantities of the precious wood. 

Sandal-wood, you must know boys, is brought off by the 
natives in sticks of various shapes and sizes, sufficiently small 
to be handily stowed in the hold. They are glad to take in 
exchange such old clothes, trinkets, and bits of iron as the 
captain lets them have. Thus for a few dollars worth of trade 
you get several tons of wood, worth in Sydney twenty-five 
pounds sterling per ton, and in China about fifty pounds. Turtle- 
shell is generally gathered by the crew. It was for this more 
especially that we had our boats. Considerable quantities of the 
shell are washed up on the shores of the islands by the swell, 
and there it is picked up. It is but seldom that you catch a 
live turtle, unless you happen to come to an island frequented by 
them, where one can watch for them, when they come up on 
shore at night to deposit their eggs in the sand. 


NATIVE CANOES. 


X 




J 

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t 


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THE NATIVE-CANOES. 


239 


“Our first harbor for trading was Joannette, one of the 
Solomon group. Here the natives were reputed quite wild, 
.and we took every precaution to preserve ourselves from an 
attack. No sooner were our sails lowered than we triced up 
the boarding-nettings, and loaded our firearms, the watch 
on deck being appointed to keep a constant and watchful 
guard, while those of us whose turn it was below had leisure 
to observe the natives launching their canoes preparatory to 
•coming off. 

“ Soon quite a fleet of boats, some containing cocoa-nuts and 
-other fruits, and chickens, parrots, etc., were paddled off toward 
us, looking, with their curious outriggers, like enormous lobsters 
■skimming along the surface.” 

“How are their outriggers fixed, Tom. 

“ The canoes are so narrow, that they woula very easily 
capsize, and it would be almost impossible even for a native 
to bring one safely through the surf To remedy this, they 
fasten to one side three arms, each perhaps eight or ten feet 
long, bow shaped, that their middle may not touch the water, 
•but with their other ends lying on the surface. These outside 
■ends are united by a fore and aft piece, which rests on and 
rskims along the water. With this contrivance, it is almost im- 
possible to turn over a canoe, as the buoyancy of the outrigger 
prevents it dipping on that side, and its weight effectually 
•keeps it from capsizing on the opposite. With a good out- 
rigger, they not unfrequently put sail on a little canoe, and 
•dance merrily over the water, the strange-looking arms now lifted 
-high up in the air, now plunged into the sea. But let the out- 


240 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


rigger give way, which sometimes occurs, and the boat is- 
almost helpless, and John Kanaka takes the water for it. 

“ As soon as the natives got within hearing, the skipper,, 
who spoke their language, warned them off, giving permission 
for only two boats to come alongside at a time and threaten- 
ing to fire into any that transgressed the rule. Two chiefs, in 
large canoes, accordingly sailed up to the starboard side, where 
was a small entering-place, and making fast their boats came 
on board, with their crews. They first laid at the captain’s feet 
an offering of plantains, cocoa-nuts, chickens, and a beautiful 
parrot, and then informed him that they had some sandal- 
wood for him, on shore, if he wanted it, desiring at the same 
time to know what he had to trade. 

“ He informed them, and held some further conversation with 
them, after which they came forward to trade with the crew for 
some fruit. We had been before warned not to make any dis- 
play of our articles of trade, nor to make any liberal offers 

for their fruit, as it is considered necessary to keep up the 

value of bartering goods. While the chiefs were aft, the crew- 
had been looking about the vessel, with such an air as a par- 
cel of sailors would be likely to put on, were they set on 
board a ship in which everything was make of gold and pre- 
cious stones. In fact, to these people, who possess not even 

the commonest articles found on board ship, and who value 
iron as we do gold, a vessel must appear an almost inexhausti- 
ble mine of riches. 

“ Knowing their thieving propensities, we had, directly after 
coming to anchor, stowed down below decks everything 


THE ISLANDERS, 


241 


removable, or that could be conveniently carried off. At this 
they were evidently disappointed. After vainly looking about 
for something on which he could lay his thieving hands, a 
native came with a begging face, forward, and asked one of 
us for a nail, pointing to one which was sticking in an old 
board forward of the windlass. The gift of a small wrought 
nail made him a rich man, for he danced aft to his compan- 
ions in the greatest glee, and we soon had the entire crowd 
(there were six of them) begging around us for a similar 
favor. There were no more nails forthcoming, however. 

“ In their anxiety to obtain some iron, they now began to 
entertain an idea of pulling one of the eyebolts out of the 
deck. Forming a ring about one in the starboard gangway, 
that their proceedings might not be observed^ by the crew, 
two of the stoutest now got down upon deck, and* catching 
hold of the securely fastened bolt, did their best to pull and 
jerk it loose, of course without effect. Nevertheless they 
tugged away manfully, until the mate stepped toward them, 
when they immediately walked off, apparently much disappointed. 
Had any article of iron been lying about within reach, they 
would have spared no ingenuity or labor to make off with it. 

“ The next morning was appointed to begin the trade. 
Our visitors shortly took leave, and were succeeded by 
others, who in turn, after gazing around the vessel, and seeing 
nothing to steal, made room for their companions. We had 
a succession of canoes alongside till sunset, when all the boats 
were ordered away, and instructions given to fire into the first 
canoe that came within gunshot. 


242 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


“ Next morning began the busy trade. Already, before 
breakfast, a number of canoes were launched from shore and 
forced through the surf, coming to us laden with rough-looking 
sticks of sandal-wood, of various shapes and sizes. As on the 
previous day, only two boats were allowed alongside at once, 
and only one was traded with at a time. 

Early in the morning the captain had overhauled his chest 
of old clothes in the hold, to familiarize himself with its con- 
tents, and he now stood at the gangway, where the wood was 
passed in, to judge of its value, and make such offers as he chose 
for it. For an old regimental coat of red cloth, with a little 
tarnished gold lace upon it, he got sandal-wood which afterward 
brought him in at least one' hundred and fifty dollars. So, too, 
knives, small mirrors, spike nails, tobacco, and numerous articles 
of old clothes were disposed of on equally advantageous terms. 
Each Kanaka, when his trade was finished, was sent away, to 
make room for more, until by three o'clock in the afternoon 
we had our entire deck and portion of the hold filled with 
the curiously twisted sticks of wood, which it was necessary 
to stow down before we could trade more. A stranger to 
the business would have said that we had quite sufficient to 
load the vessel, yet under the careful hands of our experienced 
mate, it was so snugly stowed that it occupied but a small 
space in the hold. 

Bv the followinor noon we had o[’otten all their wood, 
while the natives could V)e seen stalking about, or squatting 
in their boats, arrayed in the articles which they had obtained 
from us. As they adorned themselves with the various coats, 


TURTLE SHELLS. 


243 


vests, and trousers, some of them presented most comical 
figures. One had nothing on but a bright red military coat, 

while the only garment of others was an old vest. Some had 
hung looking-glasses ■ about their necks, while many of the 
females, vain creatures, had run nails and other bits of iron 
through the large holes in their ears, and in some instances 
even in their noses. All seemed highly delighted at the 
change in their appearance. 

“ We took our departure amid many regrets of the natives, 
who were loath to see such a prize go away from their shores. 
Our next two or three stopping-places were some deserted 
islets in the same group, with which our captain was familiar 

from previous visits. There we went ashore in our whale 
boats, and searched about the beach for turtle-shell. Some- 
times we found quite a quantity ; at others, half a day’s 
diligent search would not be repaid by a single piece of shell. 

-t 

The entire beach was strewed thickly with the centre bones of 
the rock .squid or cuttlefish, which must have existed here 
in great numbers. The white, porous oblong bones fairly cov- 
ered the beach, in spots. 

“ On one of the deserted islets we met with quite a 
prize, in the shape of a lump of ambergris. It was a yellow, 

tolerably solid substance, bearing, I thought, some resemblance 

to an old honeycomb. The mass we found weighed, I believe, 
three {rounds. It was carefully put away by the captain, to 
be sold when we got to Sydney. 

“Thus alternately trading and looking about ourselves, we at 
length filled our vessel and set sail on our return to Sydney.” 


244 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


“How did the natives look, with whom you traded?” I 
asked. 

“There were various tribes, and I suppose races of them. 
Some were dark brown, with long, glossy, black hair, and the 
usual Kanaka features. Others were short in stature, nearly 
black, with curling hair, and negro features. These last were 
much the most savage, and we could do but little with them 
in the way of trade. 

“ On most of the islands we saw cocoa-nut trees ; at some 
the natives brought off bananas, and some few other fruits. 
They appear also to raise chickens and hogs. Of birds there 
seemed to be an abundance wherever we touched, and on them 
the ruder natives probably subsist. The men all walked about 
in a state of nudity ; the women wore the tapa, or waist 
cloth, made of the fibre of the cocoa-nut tree, I suppose. They 
are a semi-amphibious people, as are all the natives of the 
South Sea Islands, appearing to be nearly as much at home 
in the water as on dry land. Their principal arms were huge 
clubs, the heads of which were studded with sharp pieces of 
shell. 

“ On arriving at Sydney, we disposed of a portion of our 
sandal-wood, and with the rest the vessel sailed for China. 
Previously to this, however, the crew were paid off. We were 
gone four months on our voyage. Our pay amounted to the 
snug sum of forty pounds sterling (nearly two hundred dol- 
lars) each. This was considered quite an extra voyage. 

■ “In China, the sandal-wood probably brought our captain 
double the price he would have obtained for it at Sydney, 


TORRES' STRAITS. 


245 


and thus he and the owners must have made a remunerative 

voyage.” 

The Chinese use the sandal-wood in the manufacture of 
fans and other ornamental articles, and value it highly. In 

fact, sandal-wood and sharks’ fins are at this day two valuable 
articles of export from British India to various parts of China. 

We passed safely through Torres’ Straits, and in thirty-five 
days from Sydney reached Lombok, or rather the port of 
Ampanam, on the western coast of the island. Lombok is a 
small but fertile island of the Malay Archipelago. It lies be- 
tween the isles of Bali, or Bally, and Sumbawa, separated from 
each by a narrow strait. Next west of Bally is the island of 
Java. Lombok itself is thickly inhabited. The people till the 
land, and export great quantities of rice, which is the principal 

product of the soil. It is said that not less than from twenty 

to twenty-five thousand tons of this grain are exported yearly 
to various parts of the Indies, much of it going to China. 

The island is intersected by a mountainous ridge, and on 
the north coast is an active volcano, having a peak which can 
be seen for many miles at sea. This was the first active 
volcano I had ever seen, and I watched the thin smoke ever 

r 

and anon curling above its top, with much curiosity, almost 
wishing that an eruption might take place while we were 
there, although such an event would doubtless have over- 
whelmed many families in ruins. 

The harbor of Ampanam is small, but has a good anchor- 
age. As this was the first Malay place at which I had ever 
been ashore, I saw much to amuse me. The people live in 


246 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


long houses constructed of bamboo, and perched upon high 
posts, from ten to fifteen feet from the ground. Several fam- 
ilies generally reside in one dwelling, their stock of chickens 
and hogs abiding on the ground beneath, possibly acting as 
scavengers to remove the refuse of the houses above. The 
dwellings are entered by means of ladders, and when these 
are hauled up all communication from without is shut off. 
The groves of cocoa-nuts and palms among which these houses 
stood made a beautiful shade for them, while bananas, pome- 
granates, shaddocks, mangosteens, and other fruit seemed to grow 
almost spontaneously, in every cleared spot. 

The grov'es were filled with birds of beautiful plumage, 
though, it must be owned, many of them of discordant voices. 
These gave to the woods an appearance of life and bustle, 
which was as strange as pleasant. Here and there could be 
seen a monkey or a marmoset, leaping from branch to branch 
among the luxuriant foliage, or swinging by his tail, and giv- 
ing vent to a shrill screech which would startle the other 
inhabitants of the groves. 

We took great pleasure in rambling through these groves, 
on the two Sundays which we spent ashore here. The people, 
although not disposed to hold any more communication with 
us than was actually necessary, were kind and attentive. Fruits 
and provisions were remarkably cheap. We purchased twenty- 
five large fowls for a dollar. Cocoa-nuts and bananas were to 
be had almost for the asking, and other fruits cost but very 
little more. I here purchased a monkey, as I wanted something 
with which to amuse myself when we should be again at sea. 



MALAY CHILDREN 




# 



i 





/ 


CHINESE RESIDENTS. 


249 


He was a wild little fellow, and I got him a chain, with which 
to keep him fast while lying in port, that he might not slip 
off into some of the shore boats frequently alongside. His 
monkeyship only cost half a rupee (twenty-five cents), while 
parrots could be bought for from ten cents to half a dollar. 
Of course, these birds were freshly caught, and could not talk. 
Parrots which have learned to talk Malay or Arabic are 
highly valued, and are not sold under twenty-five or thirty 
dollars. 

Besides the natives of the islands, who are Malays, and 
of course partly Mohammedans, a portion of the residents are 
Chinese. These filled here the line of business which I have 
noticed they generally take to when away from their homes. 
They are the small merchants of a place, and their shops 
answer to the “corner groceries” in the United States. Meet 
them where you will, away from their home, and you will find 
the Chinese to be smart, thriving, and industrious people, living 
frugally and keeping an eye to the main chance in business 
matters. Some of the Chinese who live in Lombok are reputed 
to be very wealthy ; but most of them, when they acquire a 
competency, return to their native places, to settle down. They 
do not even intermarry with the natives, but import their wives 
from the Celestial Empire, or remain single until they return 
home. 

The Chinaman dresses alike all the world over. His thick- 
soled, clumsy shoes, petticoat trousers, slouchy jacket, and little 
round cap, reach from India to America, from Shanghai to 
Sydney. The Malay natives dress variously, according to rank 


250 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


or means. The wealthier wear tunies of line material, woven in 
brisfht fio^ures. 

o o 

The men are distinguishable by the long creese, and a 
short dagger stuck in their belts. These arms are, however, at 

this time, more for ornament than use, and the natives of this 
island seemed to be a very harmless, inoffensive people. The 
males, among the laboring classes, wear nothing but a waist- 
cloth and turban, while the women dress themselves in long 
gowns, and not unfrequently in a flotving robe, formed by wind- 
ing a bright-colored cotton shawl loosely and gracefully around 
the body. 

The government of the island is administered by a number 
of rajahs, whose jealousies frequently embroil their subjects in 
quarrels and petty wars. These quarrels the Dutch on the 
neighboring island of Java have taken advantage of at various 
times to introduce their authority as arbitrators, and they yield 
at this time a controlling influence in the government. 

We began to take in our rice as soon as the ballast was 
sufficiently levelled and dunnage laid, on which to stow it. It 
was brought alongside by the natives in large boats, and hoisted 
or rather tossed in on board, and stowed in the hold by the crew. 
It was pretty severe labor to carry the sacks of rice through 
our low hold and stow them snugly in tiers fore and aft. 
The weather was oppressively warm, and the hold was like an 
oven. We worked from daylight till dark — that is, from six 
to six, with half an hour’s intermission for breakfast and an 
hour for dinner. We had a stout crew, and therefore the 
work went cheerily on, and in less than two weeks we had 


A COUJSTRY WALLAH. 


251 


the brig filled to the hatches with rice, and were ready to sail 
for China. 

While we lay at Ampanam, or Lombok as everybody per- 
sisted in calling the port, a large country ship came into the 
anchorage, to obtain some provisions. Our captain paid her a 
visit, and I was luckily one of the boat’s crew who took him on 
board, so that 1 too had a look at the stranger. We had lain 
at but a short distance from a large country-wallah, in Madras, 
but I never had a chance to board her, so that I now for the 
first time stood on the deck of one of these singular craft. 

She was a ship of about nine hundred tons, and would 
have been manned, if an American, by about sixteen or seven- 
teen hands ; if a British vessel, by perhaps twenty-two. But her 
Hindoo or Lascar crew numbered not less than seventy. These 
had placed over them a serang, or boatswain, and three boat- 
swain’s mates, whose duty it was to enforce the orders of the 
captain and mates. They used calls or pipes, precisely like that 
used by the boatswain of a ship of war, and the loud “ belay,” 
which was being piped just as we clambered up the side, put 
me much in mind of old times. 

Besides her Lascar crew, whose duty it is to make and 
take in sail, and work the vessel generally, there were six sea- 
connies, white men, or Euj'opeans, as they are called, who steered 
the vessel, and at reefing topsails took the earings. These lived 
aft, in a steerage, while the crew lived forward in a large fore- 
castle. Steering and sailmaking was the only work of the six 
sea-connies, who, I thought, must have fine times. 

The entire rigging of the ship was of coir rope, instead of 


252 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


hemp, the kind most generally used. It was beautifully fitted, 
for the Lascars are excellent sailors. Altogether, the vessel 

looked very neat and clean, and their manner of coming to 
anchor and getting underweigh proved that they could handle 
her in a creditable manner. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Leave Lombok — The monkey — The parrot — A lo?ig calm — George grumbles — Cattle- 
tending in New South Wales — Whampoa — Discharge cargo — Paid off — Visit 
Canton. 

H aving taken in our cargo, we got underweigh, and 
proceeded on our voyage to Whampoa, where we were 
to discharge the rice, and be in turn ourselves discharged. We 
passed through the little strait of Bally, which divides Lombok 
from the Island of Bally, and thence emerged into the sea which 
separates the two larger islands, Java and Borneo. This was 

real summer sailing. As we slowly wound our way past the 
land, which loomed up in the hazy distance, I called to mind 
the last time I had sailed through these waters, and was able to 
congratulate myself on now being much more pleasantly situated, 
although a strange flag was fluttering above my head. I was 
no longer cooped up, a prisoner, in a great ship. We were 

steering China-ward, I with lively anticipations of what I should 
see in that land of wonders. 

My monkey gave me much pleasure on this trip. I had, 
by uniformly kind treatment, in a great degree tamed him ere 
we were many days out, and he soon began to make himself 
quite at home with all that belonged to me. George was his 






254 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


bitter enemy. He had strongly opposed my getting him, pro- 
phesying that his mischievous habits would create bad feeling 
■‘a the forecastle, and that I would have more trouble than 
leasure in keeping him. He could not bear to have the 
‘ aimal about him, and as the monkey and I eat together, 
•':/Sorge took his pan and pot to the other end of the fore- 
C:iStie. 

For my part, I could never see sufficient of Jocko’s 
.ricks and delighted in making him swing by a line pendent 
rom the forescuttle, or in having a tussle with him on the 
ucck. But he was treacherous as well as mischievous, and 

would bite on the slightest provocation. 

In the dull monotony of life at sea, any strange object 
serves to give an agreeable diversion to the mind, and it is not, 
therefore to be wondered at, that I found an almost inexhaust- 
ible stock of amusement in my monkey. His antics could 
always raise a laugh, even among my silent shipmates, and he 
was indulged by them in many little tricks, which I at first 
feared they would resent. 

Before we got to China, he and I got to be on excellent 
terms. We took our meals on the same chest — he having his 
allowance in a little pan, but occasionally taking a piece from 
mine. His tea was poured out • for him in a bowl, and in 
thi^ he put bread to"^ soak — a fashion learned from some of 
our crew. ^ Any deficiencies in his victuals were strongly 
resented, and once, when he had scalded his fingers in the hot 
tea. he leaped upon me like a tiger, and ■ bit me severely in 
the neck. 






A PARROT. 


25:? 

Of course, such a companion was calculated to make a 
tedious passage pass much more pleasantly, and all of our 
crew, except George, grew very fond of the little creature, 
whose sprightly disposition was every day breaking out in 
some new trick. 

Of the parrot a much less favorable account must be 
given. He was a large green bird, one of the speaking kind, 
we had been assured by the Malay who sold him to us. His 
tongue, or rather the little slender cord beneath it, had been 
cut by his Malay owner before he came into our possession 
- — as this was considered necessary in order to enable him to 
talk. He was placed in the darkest part of the forecastle, 
chock forward, on one of the breast-hooks, and there secured. 
Here his food was brought to him daily — he who fed him 
pronouncing to him the woi'ds, “Pretty Polly.” In a very few 
weeks we began to hear faint mutterings from the dark cor- 
ner, and one morning, at the end of about the seventh week, 
were surprised to hear from Polly’s beak the words “ Polly, 
pretty Polly,” spoken very plainly. The parrot now learned 
rapidly, and as we were going up Canton River could talk 
tolerably fluently. But he had gotten to be a terrible repro- 
bate, and delighted in nothing so much as swearing. He 
was, therefore, a nuisance even to the most profane of the 
crew, for no one of them desired to hear a stupid bird mocking 
him. At Whampoa he was sold to some American sailors, and 
on parting from my shipmates there, I left them the monkey as 
a keepsake. 

Our passage to China was a tedious one. We were detained 


258 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


by calms in the waters bounded by Java and Sumatra on one 
side, and Borneo on the other, and it took us nearly sixty 
days to reach the mouth of Canton Bay. It might be sup- 
posed that, as we had a good little vessel, and were in other 
respects as happily situated as sailors could expect to be, we 
would not have cared how long the passage lasted. 

But, singularly enough, the exact reverse is invariably the 
sentiment of the forecastle. Let the vessel and officers 
be as unexceptionable as they may. Jack always wishes for 
a short passage. It is not that he wants to get ashore 
to spend his money. It is not, either, that he finds more 
pleasure in lying in port. On the contrary, he is almost sure 
then to have much harder work than at sea. But the sailor 
seems to be possessed of a restless spirit, a very demon of 
inquietude, who gives him no peace except in motion. He 
feels contented nowhere. When on shore, he sighs for the 
ocean. No sooner is he there, than he as ardently wishes 
himself back to port. The old saying, “More days, more 
dollars,” is oftener spoken in derision than in earne.st, and is 
only taken as a comforter in the last extremity, when all 
progress is barred by ealms or head-winds, and a lengthened 
passage seems an unavoidable fate. ^ 

Thus our fellows, though they had every reason to be 
contented, were looking and whistling as anxiously for a breeze 
as though their fortunes depended upon a speedy passage. I 
say our fellows— but I must own that I was no less impa- 
tient than the re.st. There was no lack of books, nor of what 
was just then of more interest to me, yarns. But the general' 



A TRADESMAN IN CHINA. 


« 



A LONG CALM. 


261 


unrest had also possession of me, and I was as eagerly wish- 
ing for the expected breeze as any one. 

A calm at sea is, under any circumstances, a very tedious 
matter. The smooth water, the sails drooping listlessly against 
the mast, the awkward roll of the vessel, all betoken a 
breaking up of the usual routine of sea-life. A feeling as 
though you were no longer at home seems to creep over 
every one. The watch below no longer sleep, nor sew, nor 
read. Their enjoyment of these usual time-killers seems to 
have flown with the breeze, and they wander listlessly about 
the deck, calling upon all the patron saints of wind and 
weather to extricate them from this overpowering monotony. 
All. steady occupation of mind or body seems to become oppres- 
sive ; and the sound of eight bells, which sends them on deck, 
is hailed with joy, as, at any rate, a change. 

As for the watch on deck, they generally find enough to 
do in a calm. This is an opportunity, never lost, to set up rig- 
ging, put on new seizings and lashings, where they may be 
needed, and for attending to all such work as is not to be 
done when the ship has headway on her, and her rigging and 
spars are strained by the breeze. Under the oppressing influ- 
ences of the calm, with the sun’s rays pouring down intense 
heat, melting the tar off the ropes, and making the decks almost 
too hot to stand upon, this labor comes doubly heavy. If for 
no other reason, therefore, than to escape such work, a calm is 
an event much to be deprecated by sailors. 

Our long calm brought to every one’s recollection some 
similar circumstance in his previous experience, and we enter- 


262 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


tained each other, in the dog-watches, with tough yarns of 
vessels that had lain on the line almost till they had rotted — 
till the sails were dropping from the yards, and the grass had 
grown yards long upon the bottom of the vessel. 

As for my grumbling chum, the spirit of prophecy was upon 

him again, and he foretold, with a kind of savage satisfaction,, 

that we were doomed to remain in that spot, I am almost afraid 
to say how long, but at any rate until we should have eaten up 
our provisions, and then be obliged to take to our boats and 
make the best of our way to Singapore. He rolled about in 
his berth, making grave calculations as to how many days' water 
we had yet on board, and how long our bread could be made 

to last, and had all arranged in his mind as to the course to 

be steered for the nearest land, when we should abandon the 
vessel, a consummation which he appeared to regard as a 
settled fact. Indeed, so strongly had he persuaded himself 
that this would be our fate, that I thought it was with a 
shade of disappointment he at last witnessed the approach of 
a breeze.. 

With one exception, I was, I think, the most patient indi- 
vidual in the forecastle. This was a quiet old tar, who had 

served an apprenticeship of two years to ennui, on a sheep 
and cattle station in the wilds of New South Wales. He had 
got to be resigned to almost anything, and I am sure that 
no calm could overset his equanimity of temper. As he 
himself expressed, it was happy-go-lucky with him." Two 
years of the desperate loneliness and sameness of a hut- 
tender's life had so broken his spirit as to make him simply 


IN CHINA. 



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OLD BILL THE CATTLE -TENDER. 


265 


a listless looker-on in life. “He no longer lives, he only 
stays]' said one of our fellows of him one day. 

He was our quiet man, par excellence. For days he would 
say nothing to any one, but wander up and down, in a half- 
dreamy state. Not only did he not talk himself, but he 
eluded all attempts on our part to talk to him, and when 
addressed, would look up with a surprised stare, as though 
just awakened out of a dream. He lived in a world of his 
own. When lying in his berth, he would hold long conver- 
sations with himself, in which, from the little we could 
occasionally gather, many characters appeared upon the scene 
which his imagination had laid out, and not a few abstruse 
metaphysical problems were discussed ; for he was not by any 
means an unintelligent man. He had i*ead a good deal dur- 
ing his long stay in the woods, and was evddently but now 
digesting portions of his past reading. 

He was an excellent seaman, thorough in all that 
belonged to his profession. But such an influence had his 
taciturnity upon all with whom he came in contact, that even 
the mates only spoke to him when it was unavoidable, and 
many times when dividing out the work to the watch, the 
chief mate would put a marlin-spike or handy-billy-tackle into 
old Bill’s hands, and silently point out the work he desired 
him to go to, instead of telling him what it was he wished 
done. 

He and I were watchmates. I left no means untried to 
obtain from him some information concerning the life he had 
led upon the cattle station, but found it difficult. At last I 


266 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


Struck the right key. A somewhat out-of-the-way quotation 
from Shakespeare, in conversation with another, caused him to 
look up with a pleased sparkle in his eye, which I had not 
before seen. This afforded me a little insight into his pecu- 
liarities, which I failed not to take advantage of. I talked 

o 

books to him, and here I found was his one vulnerable point. 
I loaned him a pet copy of Goldsmith, which I usually kept at 
the bottom of my chest, 7iot for general circulation, and this 
gained his heart. By degrees he became more communicative, 
and I was greatly astonished at the mass of general informa- 
tion hoarded up in that dreamy brain, of his. Having him 
once in the vein, I pestered him with questions until I 
managed to obtain from him some details of his bush life. 
All my efforts failed in getting him to give me any con- 
nected account of the mode of life which he had there led ; but 

bit by bit, I obtained the information which is given below. 

Three men stay together on one part of the station. These 
are a hut-tender and two cattle-tenders. The hut-tender, who 
cooks for himself and his mates, and perhaps washes for them, 
if they ever find it desirable to put on a clean shirt, is generally 
a green hand in the woods — a new Chum he is called in colo- 
nial lingo. He receives from sixteen to eighteen pounds 
sterling (eighty to ninet}^ dollars) per annum, with his rations 
of tea, sugar, and flour. 

It is his duty to remain at the hut, while his confreres 
are off with the cattle. Here he stays, sometimes for days 
without seeing a soul, when the others are away in search of a 
lost herd, or bringing a drove back to the pastures. Day in. 


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CA TTLE- TENDING 


269 


day out, he sees naught but the dreary plain undisturbed by 
aught of life, except an occasional bird, or a wapiti, or kanga- 
roo. It is easy to imagine how in this lonely state it after a 
while ceases to be natural to speak, and a dreamy silence be- 
comes the habit of the man. 

Sometimes the hut-keeper has a gun, and occasionally shoots 
a little game. But even this is scarcely sufficient excitement to 
relieve the dreariness of the life. Besides, it is necessary to 
remain near the hut, in order to keep safe watch and ward 
over the supplies there deposited, and to be in readiness to 
wait upon the horsemen when they come in with their 
flocks. 

After having; served at this branch of the business a 
year or two, the hut-keeper is supposed to have sufficient 
experience to warrant his advancement to the post of cattle- 
tender. He is now supplied with a horse, or perhaps two, 
that he may be able to change animals in his long rides. 
His salary is increased to from twenty-two to twenty-five pounds, 
and he assumes, with a comrade, the responsibility of taking 
care of and leading about a flock of one thousand sheep, or 
six hundred or seven hundred cattle. 

He must now have some knowledge of the woods, and 
be able to return to his hut after riding hard, perhaps in a 
, dozen directions, for two or three days. He rides about the 
country, rain or shine, with his charge of stock; he sleeps near 
them at night, upon a blanket spread upon the bare ground, 
his saddle for a pillow and his horse fastened to a stake 
driven into the ground. He must sleep lightly, in order that 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


270 


no movement in the herd or flock may escape him. And if, 
perchance, after bringing the stock safely to at night, he 
ventures to drop into a sound slumber, he is likely to 
awaken at daylight with not a single head in sight, and find 
himself obliged to^ hunt for days before he recovers his 
charge. 

In the rainy season he plashes on through mud reaching 
up to the saddle girths, with the rain pouring down in tor- 
rents. Often when sundown overtakes him in the vast plain, 
during such a rain, he must sit in his saddle the entire night, 
while the torrent is beating against his body, and he becomes 
chilled through, and faint and weary. 

This is cattle-tending. For one month in the year the 
poor souls were allowed to leave the station (taking turns) and 
go down to some of the outposts of colonial civilization, there 
to recruit their energies by the absorption of unlimited quan- 
tities of liquor, and a general spree. But Bill said that many 
of them got so used to the life on the plains as not even 
to desire this annual jollification. They remained in quiet 
stupor at their huts, or followed their stock. Some, he said, 
had supplies of books at the huts. But they had not room 
for many, and the few' were read and re-read, until almost 
learned by heart. 

Take it altogether, I was no longer surprised that one 
who had passed two or- three years of such a life should be 
almost speechless. It was only a cause for wonder that the 
few ideas with which he entered upon his hermit life had not en- 
tirely died out, and left him in a state for irredeemable stupidity. 




I 

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FA/£> OFF. 


271 


The breeze so long waited for came at last, and we gladly 
squared the yards, and set the studdingsails to expedite the ves- 
sel on her way. Our passage to Whampoa was a long one, 
lasting nearly sixty days. Luckily, we had an abundant supply 
of water and provisions, else we should have been compelled to 
use the first fair wind to make a port in order to refit. 

We were favored with a fine breeze across the China Sea, 
and that portion of the trip was passed pleasantly enough. After 
the usual bending cables, and getting anchors off the bows, pre- 
paratory to running into port, was completed, we made the land, 
and were shortly boarded by a Chinese pilot, who took us up 
to the anchorage at Whampoa. Here we immediately com- 
menced discharging our cargo of rice into large Chinese boats, 
which took it on shore. 

One week sufficed for this, and then George and I were 
free — our agreement on shipping having been that we should be 
discharged here. We found that wages were not so high here 
as they had been at Sydney, for which reason the captain was 
quite willing to let us go, being able to fill our places at a 
saving to himself. 

As neither of us possessed English register tickets, there 
were no formalities to be gone through, but we simply took our 
money and a written recommendation, and went on shore. As 
there are but poor accommodations at Whampoa for sailors, we 
left our chest and other effects aboard the brig until we should 
ship in some other vessel, thus being able to take a careless 
cruise about the town, and up to Canton, without being at the 
trouble of looking constantly after our effects. 


272 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


From the anchorage below Whampoa to Canton the dis- 
tance is sixteen miles. From the same place to the Bogue 
it is forty. On either side of the usual anchorage are rice 
fields, with here and there, in the distance, a Josshouse or 

Pagoda. 

The river is a most interesting scene, enlivened as it is 
with a vast number of boats of all shapes and sizes, from the 
tiny sampan to the more important fast-boat. Above the 

anchorage for foreign vessels are seen a number of huge un- 
wieldy junks. All is noise and confusion from morning till 

night — boats hailing one another as they pass, sailors shouting, 
and the Tartars in their floating dwellings singing as they sail 
up and down on the tide. 

I was determined to see Canton this time, and accord- 

ingly on the next day after our discharge, George and I took 
passage on one of the fast-boats or passenger boats which 
ply between Macao and that city, and after passing, how we 
could not tell, through the densest mass of boats and junks 
of all sizes, all moving, at length arrived abreast of the city. 
Here the surface of the river was covered with thousands of 

Tartar boats, moored head and stern, forming an aquatic town 
of no small dimensions, the residents of which probably were 
born, lived, and died upon the water, many of them doubtless 
never setting their feet on shore. 

Not having any friends at the factories, we engaged 

sleeping room on the fast-boat, and then went ashore at noon, 
to see what we could of the town, or rather of the suburbs, 

which is the dnly^ portion .accessible to foreigners. 



CHINESE LADIES 


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CANTON. 


275 

Canton has been so often described that it is unnecessary 
here to give a detailed account of it. Neither did I see sufifi- 
cient of it during our necessarily short stay to say much 
about it. George and I walked through the narrow but densely 
crowded streets, looking into the shops as we passed along, 
and occasionally stopping to make a purchase of some curios- 
ity — a fan, or box, or picture — which struck our fancy, until 
we were so incumbered with our newly acquired property as to 
make farther progress inconvenient. We now retraced our steps 
to the landing, where we deposited our purchases, and returned 
for another exploration. 

Thus we made the tour of the principal streets, or filthy 
alleys, called Old China Street, New China Street, and Hog 
Lane. Of the latter, I will not say more here than that it 
amply deserves its name. 

We visited a Chinese market, where, besides various fruits, 
such as delicious little mandarin oranges, lichi, preserved ginger, 
etc., we found some articles displayed, and meeting with a ready 
sale, which do not look so tempting to outside barbarians. 
These were cats, dogs, rats, and even long worms preserved 
in sugar. The last take rank as articles of luxury, and are 
attainable only to the more favored rich. We also took an 
outside look at a large ‘Chinese or Buddhist Temple, situated 
on the opposite side of the river, which forms a very promi- 
nent object in the landscape. 

By this time it was dark, and we hastened to take pos- 
session of our sleeping apartment, where amid the bustle and 
noise, which did not cease all night, we enjoyed a good 


2J6 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


night’s rest. On the next morning we took a last ramble 
about the town, previous to leaving on the fast boat, which 
was to sail at eleven o’clock. Many of the booths or huts 
on the narrow streets are occupied as gambling saloons, where 
the wretched Chinese may be seen playing at various games 
of chance and rascality. 

I was much interested, of course, with all the novelties 
of Canton; yet my visit gave me far less satisfaction than I 
anticipated from it. Such an assemblage of scoundrels, of all 
grades and shades, as is rampant in that part of Canton to 
which Europeans have access, is not, I imagine, to be found 
anywhere else in the world. I firmly believe that, from the 
highest to the lowest, they are thieves, to a man. If you go 
into a booth to make a purchase, unless you keep your eyes 
and hands constantly upon the article you desire to buy, it 
will be changed in the twinkling of an eye, and an inferior 
imitation substituted in its place. This too, after asking you, 
at the beginning of your trade, at least thrice the price they 
intend to take, or expect to get. Aside from the grosser 
forms of vice, there is no kind of low rascality which the 
inhabitants are not perfect in — no species of deception or 
trickery in which they are not adepts. It is no wonder that 
sailors, who come in contact only with these lower classes of 
Chinese, learn to heartily hate and despise them. Canton, I 
believe, bears an ill name, even among the Chinese themselves, 
as being the general rendezvous of all the bad characters in 
the Celestial Empire. 


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FARM 1 




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CHAPTER XVIII. 


Ship in a couniry-wallah — Sail for Port Louis — Leave- takhig — The Lascar crew — Man- 


ner of treating them — Long calm — Superstitions of the Lascars — Their desire to revolt 


— Arrival at Port Louis. 

PON our return to Whampoa, we were informed by 


our shipmates that the captain of a Scotch bark desired 
to ship two sea-connies, and having heard that George and 
I were ashore, had offered us the vacant places. She was bound 
to Port Louis, in the Isle of France, and the wages he offered 
were twenty-five rupees per month. 

I proposed, at once, to ship, as I had been wishing to 
make a trip in a cottntry-wallah. But George, who had been 
in Port Louis, and knew somewhat of it, declared that he was 
not going there, to remain ashore till half starved, and then 
have to ship in a British vessel to go to England. Pie would 
wait for a ship, in Macao or Whampoa, even if he had to stop 
ashore there a month. 

This did not suit me. I agreed, however, to look for an- 


other chance for us two, which would perhaps suit my chum 
better. But there was at that time no other vacancy to be 
found, except in one or two vessels, bound round the Cape, 
and in those neither of us desired to go. 



I 


278 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 

\ 

✓ 

I scarcely knew what to determine on. I did not want 
to leav^e my old chum ; but I was also decidedly averse to 
remaining any longer ashore, with a fair prospect of getting the 
dysentery, and being laid up for several months. 

It was finally suggested by one of our shipmates that George 
and I might decide the matter by tossing up a dollar. My chum 
declared, however, that he would not go to the Isle of France 
under any circumstances. 

“ But, Charley, toss up, and if you get the best in three 
tosses, we’ll consider it a sign that you ought to go in the 
bark,” said one of our fellows. 

To this George demurred, saying that he wanted me to 
stay with him. 

I submitted the matter, however, to the test proposed, and 
Dame Fortune declared in favor of my going to Port Louis. The 
next morning I shipped with the captain of the bark, and 
bought me a chest. That day George and I divided our effects 
and money, and the following day I went on board my new 
vessel. 

Our parting was, as may be imagined, a sorrowful one. 
We had been so long together that we had become used of 
each other’s ways, and each felt that a separation now woukl 
leave quite a void in his feelings. Yet each of us perse- 
vered obstinately in his course, and there was, therefore, no help 
for it. 

On the morning on which I entered upon my new duties, we 
all assembled in the forecastle of the brig to say good-by. I 
divided out some keepsakes among my old shipmates — some 


OFF FOR PORT LOUIS. 


279 

small matters I had bought in Canton — and received from 

each something in return. While we were all talking, our si- 

lent man came down with a quart cup full of rum, which he 
' had begged of the steward “ to say farewell in.’' 

It was known that I did not imbibe ; yet, for this time 
only, it was declared, must I drink with them. And as my 
silent friend became quite eloquent on the subject, I was 
obliered to assent. 

Accordingly, the cup was passed around, beginning with me, 
who was going away. Then came a shaking hands all round, 
my non-talkative shipmate being the last. 

Said he : “ Charley, God bless you, bov ; Fm sorry you 
are leaving us. When you come to Sydney, don’t forget to 

hunt us all up.’’ 

And so I jumped into the sampan alongside, and went 
aboard the bark. I had before made over the monkey to 

those who remained in the brig, with the hope that if ever I 
should return to Sydney, I should find Jocko safely housed 
ashore. 

George and I did not take final leave of each other till 
the bark sailed dovvn the river. I. had not been without a 
secret hope that he would yet join me. But he would not go 
to Port Louis, and we at last parted, with the agreement to 
meet in Calcutta, if j)ossible, during the year. But we met no 
more. 

My new vessel was very different from any I had ever 
been aboard of before. I had, therefore, satisfaction in think- 
ing that even if Port Louis proved as poor a place as George 


28 o 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


had represented it to be, I should, at any rate, upon my way 
thither, make a new experience. 

My duties as sea-conny, or steersman, were very simple, 
although tolerably arduous and wearisome, as I found before the 
passage was completed. There were four of us to steer the 
vessel and mend old and make new sails. Of Lascars, we had 
twenty-five, with a sei^ang and one boatswain’s mate. 

The European portion of the crew, four steersmen and two 
apprentices, lived in a little square cuddy, inserted in the poop, 
just abaft the mainmast. The Lascars nominally had the fore- 
castle to themselves, but this was closed as soon as we got 
to sea, and the entire company of them were made to remain 
upon deck, where they ate, drank, and slept during the entire 
passage. 

We sailed down Canton River on the 15th of April, at a 
time when the climate of that part of China was peculiarly 

pleasant — the torrid heats of summer not yet having set in. 
I felt almost sorry to be going to sea, and leaving the soft 
air of the land behind us. Yet I had nothing to keep me 

ashore, and was really glad to be well rid of China. 

Our course lay through the China Sea, and into the great 
Indian Ocean, by way of the Straits of Malacca. We began 
our voyage with a fair breeze, and consequently entertained the 
hope that we should make a short passage — a hope not des- 
tined to fulfilment. 

Having the anchors secured upon the bows, and the chains 
unbent — a sign that the ship was now at sea — our regular sea- 
life began. The steersmen relieved each other at night every 


A LA SC A CREW. 


281 


three hours, making twelve hours, from six to six, one turn to 
each. When the trick at the helm was over, each man retired 
to his berth, to sleep the other eight hours. 

During the daytime, we were generally all employed on 
the sails, while the apprentices steered the vessel. The bark 
had been some years from England, and her sails were getting 
old. They therefore required constant repairing, at which we 
worked from one day’s end to the other. 

The ship was worked by the Lascars. When a brace or 
halyards wanted a pull, or a sail was to be set or taken 
in, the order was communicated to the serang, and by him to 
the crew, who were all required, night or day, to lend a hand. 
This, of course, makes a great difference in discipline be- 
tween these ships and such as are manned entirely by “ Euro- 
peans.” 

The Lascar sailors received from four to ten rupees per 
month (from two to five dollars). For this, they oblige them- 
selves to work the vessel, and to make such repairs on the 
rigging as are actually necessary. They are very active, and, in 
general, neat sailors, but are not very strong, and have no 
powers of endurance at all. In fine and warm weather they 
make the best of crews ; but in a storm, and more especially 
when the weather is a little raw and cold, they are not to 
be depended on for anything but skulking from their duty. 

They never ship for voyages which would lead them into 
cold weather, and it is only in the greatest extremity that they 
can be persuaded to go around the Cape. 

They are a vindictive set, when roused by any indignities 


282 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



or wrongs, and do not stop short of the most extreme meas- 
ures in gaining their revenge. A great deal of care is there-* 
fore necessary in managing them, and extra precautions are 
taken, in every ship that carries a Lascar crew, to forestall the 
consequences of a sudden revolt. 

Our bark had a barricade stretching across from the main- 

* 

mast to each rail, ten feet high, which was put up every 
evening at sunset, and abaft which no Lascar was allowed to 
come at night, while forward of it no European ventured, ex- 
cept when the working of the vessel’s sails required it. The 
orders of the mates were communicated to the serang, or his 
assistant, who remained aft constantly to receive them, and 
who saw them carried into effect. 

I said peculiar care was required in their management. 
This care, however, is rather of a negative than positive 
kind. It consists more in submitting to their prejudices in re- 
ligious matters than in actually treating them well. The officers 
generally abuse them scandalously, upon the slightest neglect 
or dilatoriness, thinking but little of jumping into the midst 
of a crowd, and laying about them, right and left, with a hand- 
spike or heaver. And, in fact, I had occasion to see that this 
manner of treatment produces much more respect and orderly 
obedience in them than kind words. They very quickly learn 
to despise a mild or soft-hearted officer, while the man of the 
strong hand, whose^ word is followed by a blow, is regarded 
with respect — as one with whom they dare not trifle. 

But while thus submitting with as good grace as may be 
to the most brutal treatment, so slight a misdemeanor on the 




DISCIPLINE IN A COUNTRY WALLAH. 285 

' part of any of the Europeans as handling any of their cook- 
ing utensils, or drinking from their water-cask, would produce 
an instantaneous remonstrance, and a repetition of the offence 
would no doubt create a revolt. So, also, any interference with 
their superstitious idol worship would provoke a most sangui- 
nary return. 

We were scarce fairly at sea, when orders were given to 
fasten up the forecastle, in order that all hands of the Lascars 
might be kept on deck. It has been found necessary to adopt 
this course with such crews, that they may have no chance to 
stow themselves away, in bad weather or at night. Let them 
once get into the forecastle, and even were the vessel about 
to be dismasted in a gale or squall, they would not come up 
to assist in taking in^ sail. It is not unfrequently necessary to 
beat and whip them, to force them aloft to take in canvas. 

A Lascar crew require a separate galley and cook. Their 
religion teaches them that it is unclean to eat out of any 
utensil which has been used by whites. Their food is very 
plain, consisting only of a daily allowance of rice, a small piece 
of salt fish, and ghee, a species of liquid butter. They eat 
but two meals per day — breakfast at nine and dinner at three. 
Bread is to them unknown. Rice, boiled and eaten simple, 
without sauce of any kind, is their “ staff of life.” From this 
they make their morning meal. At dinner, a little fish and their 
quota of rice and ghee satisfies their, wants. 

Tliey are consequently not very strong ; but their activity 
is remarkable. They run aloft like cats. They disdain the use 
of ratlines — the small lines stretched across a ship’s rigging, 


284 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


which form a rope ladder, used by seamen to facilitate their 
passage to the mast-head. 

The Lascar sailor takes hold of the nearly perpendicular 
backstay with his hands, places then his feet against it, taking the 
rope between his great toe and the next one, and in this man- 
ner deliberately, and yet very rapidly, walks aloft. In the per- 
formance of this feat, European sailors cannot approach them. 
In ships which carry a Lascar crew, the ratlines are generally 
taken off the rigging, except one narrow row, left for the con- 
venienee of the .sea-connies, who go aloft to assist in reefing, etc. 

We retained our fair wind until we were nearly up to the 
Island of Banca. We were in fact already congratulating our- 
selves on having sailed so speedily through the most difficult 
part of our navigation, and had set the day when we should 
hav^e passed through the Straits of Sunda. But “ man proposes, 
God disposes.” We were barely abreast of Banca when the 
wind hauled dead in our teeth, and after vainly endeavoring to 
beat ahead for a couple of days, the skipper (as the captain is 
familiarly called in British vessels — the Yankee sailor speaks of 
him as “ the old man”) got out of patience, and put her off to 
run through the Straits of Malacca. 

This was making a considerable detour from our direct 
course. But there was a prospect that the wind would hold in 
the direction in which it had set in, and if it did so, we could 
run round the longer way much quicker and easier than we 
could beat through the shorter passage. 

Through the Malacca Straits we therefore ran, under a press 
of canvas, with the wind a little abaft our larboard beam. The 


BEFORE THE WIND. 


285 


bark was not by any means a poor sailer, and with favoring 
breezes she made a glorious run through the straits. 

That is to say, so the captain considered it. Had we had 
passengers, they too would have so thought it, and would prob- 
ably have become enthusiastic on the subject. But looking at 
the matter from the seaman’s point of view, it was anything 
but a glorious run. 

To the denizens of the forecastle, the idea of such a run 
brings with it thoughts of many evils to them, many anxieties, 
much hard labor, which a less favorable wind’ would have spared 
them. For the comfort of the crew, a breeze about two 

points forward of the beam just fair enough to keep a fore- 
topmast studd’nsail set to advantage, is by far the most desir- 
able. Sailing along with the wind this way, the vessel steers 

easily, the ship moves along steadilv, pressed down upon her 
side by the breeze, and there are an abundance of snug places 
under the lee of the weather bulwarks, where the watch on 
deck at night can caulfc^' in peace, untroubled by hoisting, 
shifting, and lowering studdingsails, or trimming braces, and 
not haunted by the dread of an approaching trick at the 
wheel. 

When the wind is aft, and a glorious run is being made, 
all comfort is lost sight of What with swigging at studd’nsail 
halyards, reeving preventer braces, trimming here a little and 
there a little, the watch on deck is continually busy. The 

wind, too, rakes the ship fore and aft, leaving not the smallest 


* Caulking, so sleeping on deck at night, when there is nothing for the watch to do, is called. 


286 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


spot uninvaded, and for the time being all the snug caulking 
places under the lee of the long boat or bulwark are per- 
force given up. 

The vessel rolls from side to side, with a crazy motion not 
at all comfortable ; she brings up with a sudden and unexpected 
jerk which is apt to take one off his feet. The sea, as it 
rushes past the side, has an altogether different and unnatural 
sound; and the breeze, coming from aft, is thrown down toward 
the deck by the reaction of the sails, and makes every other- 
wise snug place unpleasant. 

Lastly, at such a time, the ship steers wildly, and that, too, 
just when the captain is most anxious to see her go straight, 
in order to make all the headway possible. Steering is, under 
any circumstances, the most wearisome of a sailor's multifarious 
duties. 

To have the attention fixed for two weary hours upon a 
single object, without permitting the mind or the eye to wander 
for a moment, that object being, withal, a vessel continually 
thrown off her proper course by the action of the sails and 

the sea, is far more laborious than any one can imagine who 

0 

has not experienced it. But with a roaring breeze aft, and all 
studd’nsails set, it sometimes becomes a positive torture to 
steer. 

I have noticed a general impression among landsmen that 
a ship must steer easiest when the wind is square astern. 
This seems, too, a natural supposition ; yet nothing is farther 
from the fact. The sea follows the direction of the wind, and 
in a strong breeze aft, the waves, which dash violently against 


STEERING. 


287 


•the ship’s counter, sway her incessantly, now to one side, now 
to the other. The sails, also, bear an uneven pressure upon 
the hull while forcing it through the water. 

Now she is swept might and main to the starboard, and 
the helmsman, who has foreseen the movement, rattles the 
wheel down to meet her. But no sooner does she feel the 

helm, no sooner has the rudder, fixed for the momftit trans- 
versely across the stern, caused her to stop in her devi- 
ation upon this side, than the obstinate craft takes a mighty, 
almost resistless sweep to the other side, and “ meet her,” is 
the cry, while poor Jack tugs desperately at the heavy-moving 
wheel, to bring her back to her course. 

Thus, often the helm is not for one moment in the two 
hours’ “ trick” held still, and the steersman lifts and pulls at 
the wheel, in vain attempts to keep the vessel on her course, 
great drops of perspiration rolling down his face, and every 
muscle and tendon exerted to its utmost. 

There is much difference in steering. Some vessels may 
be guided on their course with comparative ease, under cir- 
cumstances in which it would be vain to attempt to keep 
others within three points either way. It is obvious that as a 
bad steering ship makes an irregi\lar zigzag course, instead of 
going in a straight line, she does not in such case make the 
real progress that her headway through the water would lead 
one to believe. Thus, in some vessels, to count two knots 
(two miles) out of ten, for bad steering in strong breezes, is 
a very moderate allowance. 

Of course, in such a time one does not look forward to 


288 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


a trick at the wheel with the most pleasant feelings in the 

world. But Jack is far from owning to any uneasiness on the 

subject. Every one pretends to look upon the matter with 
the utmost indifference, and a man goes aft to take the helm, 
with a smile on his face, as though it was the greatest pleas- 
ure, all the while quaking in his boots at the thought of what 
is befoi% him. 

When, at the expiration of two hours, he comes forward, 
and is asked, “ How does she steer he does not acknowledge 
that it is the hardest work in the world,- and that he was 

very glad when his trick was out. This would be out of 

order — a sacrifice of dignity. 

He replies, with the utmost san^^ froid, “ Oh, she steers like 
a boat noiv ; I could steer her all day, as she goes along with 
this breeze.’" 

It is one of the peculiarities of the sailor, that having just 
escaped from any position of difficulty or danger, he will not 
then own to it. Although it may have been an extreme case, 
though he may have got safely out of the most imminent 
peril, he is expected to make light of the circumstances, and 
any attempt to treat the matter seriously would expose him 
to the ridicule of his shipjnates. To have escaped is consid- 
ered sufficient proof that the peril was not great ; to have per- 
formed the duty is evidence that it was not" difficult. 

I remember a circumstance which will bring this matter 
perhaps more clearly before the reader. Two men went out to 
stow the flying jib. There was a very heavy head sea on, and 
the vessel was consequently pitching bows under, rendering the 


INSENSIBILITY TO DANGER. 


289 


service one of no little difficulty. They had secured the sail, 
and were just returning on board, when the ship gave an un- 
usually violent pitch, and both men slid down the foot-rope, 
losing their hold of the slippery jibboom, and only saving them- 
selves by catching with their hands on the foot-ropes, where they 

/ 

hung on, between wind and water, and so came in hand over 
hand, till they reached the bowsprit shrouds, being in imminent 
danger of being washed off by the seas, in which they were im- 
mersed up to their middle. We who stood on deck watched 
them with breathless attention, expecting momentarily to see 
them go overboard, in which case no human power could have 
saved them. 

When they got safely in on deck, an old salt said, 
“ You two fellows want to show off some of your smartness,, 
cutting about on the foot-ropes. A little more and you would 
have gone to Davy Jones’s locker.” 

“ It takes more than that to ship me for Davy Jones’s,” 
answered one, with a careless laugh. The other, however, took 
the matter more to heart, and attempted to describe to us his 
thoughts as he hung on the ropes, expecting to be washed 
away. He was met with a general jeer of derision ; and for 
the balance of the voyage, he and his adventure were the 
laughing-stock of the forecastle. 

This insensibility to danger grows naturally upon the sailor. 
His life is one of continual exposure and peril, and he soon 
learns to regard every danger escaped or difficulty overcome, 
however great they may be, with comparative indifference. 

Besides this, such an accident as slipping one’s hold on a 


290 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


yard or boom is considered lubberly, and he to whom it hap- 
pens, if a seaman, is too much ashamed of his carelessness 
to say much about it. 

Until within the last three or four years, a life-buoy was 
an article almost unknown on board American vessels, except 
the , packet ships. The boats, the only hope of saving a man 
who has fallen overboard, are always secured with such a mul- 
tiplicity of stout lashings as to make it a work of at least 
fifteen or twenty minutes to get one into the water. It is 
therefore evident that to the merchant sailor, if he falls ov'erboard, 
there is small hope of rescue. He never goes aloft but at the 
risk of his life. But habit is everything, and no one ever 
thinks of these things at sea, or, if he does, wisely keeps his 
thoughts to himself 

To return to our voyage. We made a glorious run 

through the Straits of Malacca, and retained our fair wind until 
we struck the line on the other side of the island of Su- 

matra, in about longitude ninety, east. Here our breeze left us, 
and we were becalmed. 

This is a fated spot. It is a region of almost intermina- 
ble calms, and, as such, is avoided when possible by all vessels 

sailing out of or approaching the Malacca Straits. 

We were fairly caught, and lay under the sweltering sun 
of the line until we almost gave up all hope of getting away. 

Our captain had reckoned upon a quick passage, and the 
vessel was in consequence but poorly supplied with provisions. 
Before we got a breeze once more, we had cause to fear a 
famine. It became necessary to put all hands on short allow- 


SUPERSTITIONS OF THE LASCARS. 



•■'ance. This was particularly hard on the poor Lascars, whose 
lawful allowance is small enough. But to make matters worse 
,for them, the rice began to grow mouldy, and was soon almost 
unfit to eat. 

They used every species of incantation known to them, to 
procure from their god the favor of a breeze. Day and night 
they were praying to their idol, whose shrine, under the top- 
gallant forecastle, was now adorned with numerous votive 
offerings of his distressed worshippers. 

They at last got an idea that the calm was sent upon' 
us to punish the wickedness of our captain, who, when in 
■liquor, was wont to make all manner of disparaging remarks 
about the idol. They conceived that their patron saint was not 
able to see, through such a mass of wickedness, the offerings 
made at his shrine, and on consultation they determined to 
approach him nearer. Accordingly, they placed other tributes 
at the mainmasthead and at the flying jibboom end. 

I had the curiosity to examine, while they were stretched 
on deck asleep, the sacrifice placed at the masthead. It con- 
sisted of a handful of rice, a rupee, and a slip of paper with 
■some Hindoo characters written upon it — the whole wrapped 
I up in a cotton cloth, and securely fastened to the truck. 

On inquiring of the serang, after the calm was over, I 
learned that the rice was to show the god what his poor fol- 
dowers were forced to eat ; the rupee was a propitiatory offer- 
ing, while the writing on the paper stated their pressing need, 
and conveyed a. prayer 
ihavior. 


and'* a promise of future good be- 


292 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


But something more serious now claimed our attention., 

I have already mentioned that we had two white boys, appren- 
tices, on board. These lads had learned the Hindostanee 
language, and were much among the Lascar portion of the 
crew. The captain had instructed them already that they were 
to be cautious in their intercourse with these. He rather fa- 
vored their intimacy with them, as thereby he was more likely 
to. learn of any plans of mutiny that might be hatching out. 
forward. 

We had not long been on half allowance, when one of 
the boys informed us that the Lascars had asked him, appar- 
ently by chance, but evidently with a purpose, whether" he 
understood navigation. The boy could navigate, the captain 
' having taught him. But he had the good sense to answer in 
the negative. His interrogators were evidently much disap- 
pointed. The other boy was also questioned, but with a similar- 
result. 

By a little management, the lads obtained sufficient infor- ' 
mation of their plans to show us that they had intended,, 
could either one of the boys navigate, to rise and murder all 
the Europeans except that boy. They intended to preserve 
him, and * force him to take the vessel, when a breeze came, 
into th^ neighborhood of some port in the Bay of Bengal, 
where they would set fire to the bark to conceal their crime,, 
and go ashore in the boats. 

The captain expressed but little surprise at the discovery^ 
of their plan. He had been long enough among the Las- 
cars to know that such a purpose was not unlikely to be 


TREACHERY OF THE LASCARS. 


293 


•^entertained, if the vessel got into any difficulties, or they were 
;seriously dissatisfied with the voyage. 

We took some extra precautions to guard against surprise; 
the arms in the arm-chest were loaded, and placed ready for 

use; but farther, nothing Was done — no notice taken of the 

design on foot. 

Our security lay in the fact that they had no one to 

navigate the bark for them. Had either one of the boys 
been so imprudent as to own that he could work the vessel, 
there was no doubt that a desperate attempt would have been 
made to carry into effect their plans. 

We were eighteen days becalmed, in all which time we 
did not make sixty miles to the south. At last came the 
breeze, and we joyfully ran up the studd’nsails, and stood on 
our course. The Lascars firmly believed that their prayers and 
offerings had propitiated the ruler of the winds in our favor, 
and triumphantly adduced this as an evidence of the power 
■of their idol, whose altar was now decked with ribbons and 
bright-colored paper — tokens of the gratitude of his worshippers. 

The breeze continued with us until we reached the 

Mauritius, as the Isle of France is commonly called. We had 
.a ninety-days’ passage to Port Louis. Although not actually 
out of provisions when we got there, common prudence had 
forced the captain to keep us on short allowance for .nearly 
half that time. I was, consequently, glad enough to get 
ashore, if it were only to eat once more a good meal. Mouldy 
rice and rusty pork, peas full of bugs, and worm-eaten bread 
had been our fare for a large portion of the passage. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


294 

This is, however, sailor’s luck. It is a great blessing that 
the sea air produces an appetite which enables one to stomach, 
almost anything bearing the semblance of provisions. 

VVe moored the vessel, head and stern, sent down the 
topgallant and royal yards and topgallantmasts, and prepared, 
the top-masts and topsail-yards for being sent on deck, pre- 
cautions which are enforced by the authorities of the port, 
to guard against accidents in time of hurricanes, which prevail 
in these latitudes during certain seasons of the year. This, 
done, I was free to go ashore. I was paid off with fifty ru- 
pees (twenty-five dollars), which was two months’ wages, hav- 
ing received the usual month’s advance at Whampoa — and 
spent it, too. 

On the day on which I left the vessel the Lascars also' 
demanded their discharge. They would not sail any longer 
with our captain, whom they regarded as a reprobate — one 
wbo was under the curse of their idol. 

The captain cared but little about their leaving, but was 
very desirous to retain the serang, who was an unusually smart 
and trustworthy fellow. Here I learned another of their pecu- 
liarities. The serang was desirous to stay ; but the connection. 

✓ 

in which he stood to the crew made it impossible. These 
men unite themselves in gangs or companies, choose one of 
their number, generally the eldest, for their serang or chief, 
and thus ship on a vessel. During the voyage any unusuah 
action they consider expedient to take is referred to the entire 
body, and the determination of the majority settles the matter.. 


THE LA SCATS LEAVE. 


295 


From this, no one of them dares depart, as he would be 
resfarded a traitor. 

o 

When we arrived at Port Louis, a council was held to 
determine whether they should leave. Various arguments were 
offered for and against such step, but finally those in favor 
of leaving prevailed ; and now the serang, who had been in 
the minority, felt himself bound to go with his companions. 
No offer of additional wages could prevail on him to stay. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Difficulty of getting a ship — Go on hoard an American vessel — Off for Rio — A yarn 
from a company sailor — Rio de Janeiro harbor — For Boston — Cold weather. 

T aking my chest and hammock on shore, I first of all 
hunted up a boarding-house. Boarding, I found, was at 
the rate of ten rupees per week. There were but two meals 
per day. East India fashion, and every man was expected to 
furnish his own bedding, being provided with enough floor to 
spread it on. 

This was fully as bad as my chum had represented matters 
to me. I saw that at such rates fifty rupees would last but 

a little while, and lost no time in looking up a ship. 

But, unfortunately, ships were scarce just then. I desired 
to go to some part of India, but so, it seemed, did every 
other sailor on shore, and there were not a few of them. I 
was without acquaintances, unused to the ways of the port, 
and soon saw that if I wanted to escape becoming “hard up,’' 
as it is termed among sailors, I would have to spend all my 
time on the mole and among the ships, to catch a chance. 

“ Hard up” is a dread word among seamen. Few but 
have experienced all its horrors. There are seasons in every 
port when, from a stagnation in business, fewer ships are fitted 


PORT LOUIS. 


297 


out than arrive, and consequently there is a surplus of seamen 
on shore, for whom there is of course no employment. 

These poor fellows are obliged to waste their time and 
means in vain pursuit of a ship, and finally, when they have no 
longer the money necessary to pay for their boarding and 
lodging, must dispose of their clothing — that which they need 
most — to pay the landlord ; or in default — or even after having 
■done this — are turned into the street, to shift for themselves, as 
best they may. 

Then they may be seen — poor, half-starved fellows — sneak- 
ing about the shipping, taking shelter for the night amder lee 
of boxes and bales on the quay, and begging a crust 
from some compassionate cook, to keep them from utter 
starvation. 

In American ports, it does not often happen that sailors 
are reduced to these extremities ; but in foreign parts, and 
especially in the principal seaports of England, there is no depth 
of miserV which seamen do not sometimes suffer. 

I will relate here an incident, of which I was an eye- 
witness, which will show to what extreme seamen are not 
unfrequently reduced. We were in the King’s Dock, in 
Liverpool; it was in November, and “times” were “poor” 
.ashore, so we heard. The steward had, one afternoon, brought 
up out of the bread-locker a quantity of spoiled bread — sea- 
bread — which, having got wet, was all alive with worms — a 
disgusting mess, which was intended for the pig. 

Two sailors, who had been wandering forlornly about tbe 
vessel and dock all day, looked at this bread with eager eyes. 


298 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


At length, it seemed they could no longer withstand the 
temptation, and both got on board and walked up to the long- 
boat, where it was sitting. Turning it over, they picked out a 
few of the least worm-eaten biscuit, and asked the steward, 
who had been looking on, for permission to take them. 

He would not believe that the men were so hungry as to- 
desire to eat this stuff, and, suspecting some trick to extort 
charity, told them coldly they might eat it if they wished. 
They thanked him, took it on the quay, and there, knocking, 
the worms out of it, began to eat it. 

Several of us who had watched their actions now inter- 
fered, called them on board, and gave them as much as they 

could eat of such as we had in the forecastle. They told us: 

that they were then tasting food for the first time in forty- 
eight hours — a statement which their wan looks and vora- 
cious appetities showed to be too true. 

They had been two months on shore, had sold every 
stitch of clothing they owned except the dungaree shirts and 
trousers they had on — had even disposed of their shoes, and 
were walking the streets barefooted. They had been turned 
out of their boarding-houses, and had, for some weeks, slept 
on boxes and bales, in corners of the docks, where a kind 

watchman would give them shelter. All this, too, in the 

month of November. 

They were now entirely destitute, and would have to 
suffer dreadfully for the want of suitable clothing, even if they 
got a ship — of which, however, there seemed but little hope, for 
what captain would ship such worn, weak fellows when he could 


HARD UP." 


299 ’ 


have his choice of hundreds of sailors. Yet I had one of these 
very men as a shipmate afterward, and a steadier man or better 
sailor I never knew. This is one of the dark sides of a. 
sailor’s life. 

As before said, I was afraid of getting hard up, and deter- 
mined to avail myself of the first chance of shipping. 1 had. 
been already nearly three weeks ashore, and was very nearly at 
the bottom of my purse, when, ' fortunately, an American ship,, 
about to sail for Rio de Janeiro and Boston, needed a hand,, 
and I obtained the chance. The wages were very low — only 
ten dollars per month, and no advance. To the latter circum- 
stance I was indebted for being chosen out of some ten or" 
twelve who desired to ship. All the rest were already in debt 
ashore, beyond their means to pay, while I was, so far, square 
with the landlord, and had ten rupees left wherewith to purchase- 
myself a little warm clothing, of which I stood much in need. 

I had now been so long in warm weather that I had 
scarcely any woollen clothes, and dreaded doubling the Cape 
with so poor a fit out as I was the possessor of But necessity 
knows no law. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to face the 
weather. 

Although three weeks ashore in Port Louis, I saw scarcely 
anything of- the city, and nothing at all of the suburbs and. 
neighborhood, or of any other portion of the island. The city 
is situated at the bottom of a tolerably roomy basin, which- 
forms the anchorage. It is surrounded on all sides but the 
north with high mountains, the rugged volcanic peaks of 
which rise in most singular shapes. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


,300 


The population is composed of many different nations, 
both Oriental and Occidental. Among Europeans, French and 
English predominate. Of' the Eastern races, the Hindoos 
are in point of numbers the strongest, but there are 
Parsees, Chinese, Malays, Africans, Madagascarenes, Arabs — in 
short, representatives of nearly every race and nation of 
the Orient. The natives, who are mostly black, the descend- 
ants of Madagascarenes, speak' a barbarous species of French, 
but generally understand English in addition. 

The little I saw of the Mauritius pleased me much, and 
I resolved, if possible, to return thither at some future time, 
and make it my port of departure for a while, sailing hence 

t 

in the little traders which frequent the bays of Madagascar, 
and explore the adjoining African coast, and the islands of the 
Indian Ocean. As this one of my day dreams was, singularly 
■ enough, realized to some extent afterward, I will defer any 
further description of Port Louis and its environs until it 
turns up again in the regular course of my narrative ; merely 
saying here that it derived much of its interest to me from 
the fact that here is laid the scene of Pierre St. Bernard’s 
beautiful story of Paul and Virginia. Poor sailor that I was, 
I was deprived hy my poverty of the pleasure of making a 
pilgrimage to the graves of these true lovers. I even got 
but a glimpse at the narrow and shallow harhor, called to this 
•day Tomho Bay (Bay of Tombs), where Virginia’s ship was 
•cast ashore, and she and Paul met so melancholy a fate. 

Such is but too often the fortune of the seaman. He 
visits places of the greatest interest, but finds the circumstances 


FOR AMERICA. 


301 

which control him such as to deprive him of all the pleasure 
he had anticipated from his voyage. 

As we sailed out of Port Louis harbor I was forced to 
confess to myself that the objeet I had had in view in coming 
to the East Indies had been very poorly fulfilled. I was bitterly 
disappointed when I thought that although I had been to 
Calcutta and Madras, I knew but little more of either place than 
if I had never seen them. That though I had made another 
voyage to China, I was but little wiser than before. That 
after all the hardship and trouble seen and suffered since I 
left the United States, more than sixteen months before, I was 
no more satisfied with the little I had seen than I was be- 
fore I set out upon this voyage, from which I had anticipated 
so much. In truth, I was learning by experience that of all 
travellers the sailor sees the least, and pays most dearly for it. 

I turned my face America-ward, with a mind ill contented, 
a poorly provided chest, and a nearly empty purse. But with 
an obstinacy worthy, perhaps, a better cause, I determined to 
make one more trial. Using the experience gained in the last 
year and a half, I thought I could perhaps make my way 
about the Indies a little more to my satisfaction than I had 
succeeded in doing this time. 

We left Port Louis in July. The vessel in whieh I was 
now had brought a cargo of rice from Arracan to the Mauritius. 
Her captain found freights in the latter place rather dull, and 
determined to return to the United States, stopping at Rio de 
Janeiro by the way, to procure a cargo of coffee. 

We had a singular crew. Among the twelve members of 


.302 


THE 'MERCHANT VESSEL. 


the forecastle, at least seven different nations were represented. 
There were two Americans, three Englishmen, a native of St. 
Helena, two Manillamen, two Frenchmen, one Spaniard, and one 
..Swede. 

Our vessel had been for some years sailing from port to port 
in the Indies, and had gradually lost , all her own crew, and picked 
up at random the men who now manned her. They were all 
good seamen, but we made a very unsociable set in the forecastle. 
So many different nations cannot agree well together, when 
thrown into such close connection as we were, in, a narrow fore- 
castle. 

The English hated the Manillamen, as “conniving fellows,” 
because these would not get drunk with them ; while the Span- 
iard made friends of them because they spoke his language. 
The St. Helena man was ranged on Johnny Bull’s side, while 
the Svyede rather inclined to Yankeedom. The two Frenchmen 
assumed an air of the loftiest contem'pt for all our little cliques 
and parties, declared John Bull a brute, snapped their fingers at 
the American eagle, and sang vive la bagatelle'.' 

For myself, I had been so long a citizen of the world, that 
it was not a matter of much difficulty to steer my course 
•safely between all parties, and make friends of all. I had been 
Tailed as a “lime-juicer” on first coming on board, having, by 
sailing in British vessels for the previous year, contracted many 
of the ways of British sailors. I took care to proclaim my- 

self an American, however, and thus was naturally counted on 
the Yankee side in the forecastle — a side, by the way, which 
was very poorly represented among us. 



OM TMl': HIGH SEAS. 



OUR CREW. 


305 


The only other American sailor on board was a poor, sick 
fellow, who had broken down his constitution under the burn- 
ing suns of India, and was now making his way home to die. 
He hailed from the State of New York, but had not. been 
home for many years. No one would have taken him for an 
American, so thoroughly had his long service in British vessels 
chano^ed him. 

For three years previous to his shipping in the Ariadne 
(the name of the vessel in which we now were) he had been 
in the East India Company’s service, forming, the greater part 
of that time, one of the crew of a small steamer which plied 
on the Indus, bearing despatches to and from the then scene 
of war in Sinde and the Punjaub. He had finally fallen sick, 
and was sent to Bombay, where he partly recovered, was dis- 
charged from the hospital and service, and shipped in the 
Ariadne, determined to go home. 

His disease, the dysentery, still hung upon him, and he 
was scarcely able to walk about when . I came on board. 
Although we were by this means one hand short, in a crew 
that was small enough when complete, our sick shipmate was 
carefully attended, and his condition made as easy as possible 
in a dark and contracted forecastle. 

There is but little comfort for an invalid on board a mer- 
chant vessel. So little space is provided for the crew that it 
is impossible to give to the sufferer a separate apartment. 
Day after day he must lie in his berth, in the crowded fore- 
castle, aroused at regular intervals by the noise of the changing 
watches, listening languidly to the gay and careless laugh of his 


3o6 the merchant vessel. 

more fortunate shipmates, and by the constant presence of their 
stalwart forms forced to feel with treble keenness the helpless- 
ness to which he is reduced. He receives but little attendance, 
for his fellows have but little time they can call their own ; 
and, although all is meant kindly, no amount of good feeling can 
make up to him the comforts which his fevered body misses. 

Poor George, who was sick nearly all the way home, 
seemed to care only to live to reach that home. To see 
once more the spot whence he had started out, many years ago 
— to die in the cottage where he first saw light, and have his 
remains laid in the little churchyard where, in childhood, he 
had played — this seemed now the only desire of his heart. I 
trust it was granted him. We saw him safely to the cars 
when we were discharged in Boston ; beyond that, I know 
naught ol him. 

He had made some singular experiences in his lifetime. 
Most of his sailing had been in English vessels, in the East 
Indies. There was scarce a port in the Indies which he had 
not visited and of which he had not some story to tell. He 
loved to beguile his loneliness by yarning, when he could get 

auditors ; and I spent many hours of my watch below sitting 

upon the edge of his berth listening to the experience of one 
who had started to sea with just such ideas as I still enter- 

tained, and who was now returning to probably a desolate 
home, a wreck, fit only to die, and hoping for nothing better 

than the privilege of dying among his kindred. 

There was but one man in the forecastle whose yarns 

could rival sick George’s. This was a growling Englishman, 


“ OLD FRED." 


307 


who presumed on his white locks and wrinkled face to force 
upon us such unconscionable stories that he, in a very short 
time, became the butt of every one’s jokes. George’s yarns 
were listened to with interest and respect, because we could 
•depend on what he said. There was the evidence of truth 
.about him. . But old Fred assumed such a braggadocio air 
with his interminable tales that no one would believe him. 

We could not mention a strange place, but Fred would 
at once shout, “Yes, I know all about that; I was there,” in 
such a ship, the Amelia, the Augusta, the Arabella, or what- 
ever name happened to be uppermost in his mind. He pre- 

tended to know everything about wind, weather, and the world 
in general. He was, in short, a kind of self-constituted Solo- 
mon-in-ordinary to the crew ; a fellow of whose advice you 
could not rid yourself, be you ever so uncommunicative. 

By his undesired interference in everybody’s stories, he 
broke up all yarning in the forecastle. Not one of us but 
was afraid to mention an adventure, or speak of a foreign 

•place, knowing that master Fred would at once take the wind 

out of our sails, by some tougher yarn than any one else 

■ cared about spinning. 

At last several of us fell upon a plan to silence him, 
which proved as effectual as we hoped. He was ever ready 
to yarn* it. We therefore seated ourselves around him one 
Sunday afternoon, and commenced catechising him. 

“Were you ever in Canton, Fred.?” 

“ Oh, yes, I went there fifteen years ago in the Windsor 
Castle, a Company vessel.” 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



“How long were you on the voyage?” 

“We sailed from London to Canton, thence to Calcutta, 
and back to Gravesend, in eighteen months.” 

One of the conspirators, with a piece of chalk, slyly marked 
on the back of a cnest, “ London to Canton and Calcutta and, 
back, eighteen months.” 

Another now said, “ Where did you board when you were 
in Sydney, Fred?” 

The old fellow went into a long dissertation on Colonial 
life, spoke of having been cattle-tending, having sailed out of 
Sydney for a number of years, and at last, when pressed to men- 
tion the exact number, said, after an effort at recollection, “ about 
twelve years he had spent in the colony of New South Wales.” 
In like manner we successively drew him out concerning 
all the different parts of the world in which any of us had 
ever been, leading him to give us the time spent in each, or 
on each voyage thither and back. 

Fred was in high spirits at such a chance to yarn it to 
us youngsters, while we had difficulty in keeping our faces, 
straight enough to carry out the joke. Our examination was 
continued nearly three hours, when Fred having just been tempted 
into a most barefaced lie, one of his persecutors broke out 
on him ; “ Why, you old swindler, you outrageous old heathen, 
just look here,” pointing to his running account on the chest,, 
“if all you have told us were true, as you solemnly swear,, 
you would be just one hundred and fifty-six years and ten 
months old. Now go on deck, and be ashamed of yourself.” 
The old fellow looked daggers at us, who were enjoying 


RIO DE JANEIRO. 


309 


the scene hugely, and left us, muttering something about “ a 
parcel of saucy boys, who had no respect for gray hairs.” 

But from that time we were troubled no more with Fred’s 
yarns. 

We had a fine passage to Rio de Janeiro; although we 
passed the Cape of Good Hope in the dead of winter, we 
met with no very severe storm. This was the third time I 
had doubled the Cape, each time in the winter season, or 
•during the period of short day.s. 

We arrived in due time, and without any noteworthy 
occurrence, in the harbor of Rio. Tbe tall sugar-loaf, the 
many curiously shaped peaks, towering on all sides toward the 
sky, and the two white forts at the harbor’s mouth, seemed 
to me like old acquaintances. As we cast anchor in the midst 

of a dense crowd of merchant vessels, of all nations, I recol- 

% 

lected how much, on my first visit to this place, I had en- 
vied the merchant sailors their comparative freedom. This 
time, I thought, I will take a cruise on shore, long enough 
to make up for my former deprivations. 

But this time, too, I was destined to disappointment. It 
happened to be a season when the Brazilian navy was in ur- 
gent need of men, and press-gangs were on the watch either 
to entice away, or, in default of that, to carry off by main force, 
all sailors on whom they could lay their clutches. I had then 
a shipmate in that service, who had been carried off in sucb 
manner, and was not at all desirous of sharing his fate. I did 
not venture, therefore, any farther than the palace stairs, the 
usual landing-place for boats. 


310 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


Neither had we much time to spend on shore. Already 
on the second day after our arrival in port, cargo began tO' 

come along side. As we had nothing to discharge, we began, 
immediately to load the vessel, a service in which all the 
crew were engaged. After carrying heavy coffee bags all day, 
in a hot and confined hold, one does not feel much like 

wandering about on shore at night. The berth is the most 

tempting place after supper ; a quiet night’s rest is much more 

welcome than a ramble about a foreign place. 

In a fortnight we had our cargo stowed, and were ready 
to sail for Boston. 

One day, while we were yet taking in cargo, the entire 
harbor was thrown into excitement by the arrival of a Brit- 
ish vessel of war, having in tow a prize, taken but a little 
way to the north, on the coast. She was a queer-looking 
craft to have been fitted out for a slaver. She looked for all 
the world like a genuine New Bedford whaler. Boats on her 
quarters, little topgallant cross-trees for the convenience of the 
lookouts, an oil streak in her starboard waist — everything pro- 
claimed her a “ spouter.” 

We understood that she had been fitted out in this way 
on purpose to deceive the cruisers. The story on shore was 
that she had made several successful voyages, no one suspect- 
ing a sleepy old blubber-hunter of carrying anything contra- 
band of law. How. suspicion was first aroused against her, we 
did not hear. Probably, however, by some one in the confi- 
dence of the owners betraying the secret. 

But we saw a more remarkable specimen of a slaver 


J SLA l/£R'S TRICICER Y. 3 1 I 

than even this whaler. This was a Brazilian-built craft, a 
polacca sloop, having only one huge mast, almost as large in 
circumference as a seventy-four’s mainmast. She had been 
chased by a British cruiser for six days and nights before 
she was caught. She was now a mere wreck, no longer sea- 
worthy. 

Nothing that human ingenuity could invent to add to 
the vessel’s speed had been spared during the long chase. 
The rigging was all eased up, giving the mast more play — 
every imaginable sail was crowded on — but all in vain. At 
last they resorted to the desperate expedient of sawing 
through the vessel’s rail or bulwark, in three places on each 
side. This had the effect of making her hull as limber as an 
old basket, and the cruiser’s men said it for a while increased 
her speed materially. 

But the wind died away, and then the vessel of war sent 
her boats after her, and to these they were obliged to sur- 
render. She lay now a hulk in the harbor, and was to be 
shortly broken up. 

We arrived in Rio de Janeiro on the 15th of September, 
having been just sixty days in coming from the Isle of 
France. We lay eighteen days in the port of Rio, and took 
our departure thence for Boston on the 3d of October. 

Sailing for a northern port so late in the season, we 
East Indiamen were considerably alarmed at the prospect of 
meeting with cold weather on the American coast. We 
industriously patched up old jackets and flannels, tarred our 
sea-boots, and darned up old stockings, endeavoring to make 


312 


IJdE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


as good provision as possible for that which we knew was in 
store for us. 

To one who has been sailing for some years in a warm 
climate, a sudden approach to the cold of northern latitudes is 

as disagreeable an incident as can well happen. My warm 

clothes had lain so long, unused, in my chest, that half of 
them were no longer fit to wear, and I had enough to do at 
tailoring, all the passage, in order to fit myself out for cold 
weather, which we were now approaching. 

We had a pleasant passage, until we began to draw near 
the American coast. When about abreast of the Island of 
Nantucket, but yet some distance from the land, the wind 

hauled to the north-east, and we ran into Boston Bay amid 

such a pelting storm of hail, sleet, rain, and wind, as none of 
us had experienced for some time. Happily, a north-easter is a 
fair wind for homeward-bounders, when they have got as far on 
their passage as had we, and we were not therefore exposed for 
a long time to the storm. We arrived in Boston harbor on 
the 1 8th of November. It was still storming wildly outside, 
and no one could have felt more strongly than ourselves the 
comfort of having brought our ship safely into a haven. We 
made haste to secure her to the wharf, then took out our 
effects, and departed for our different boarding-houses. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Hard times for sailors — Anxiety to escape the winter — Boston to Bangor — Sail for 
Demarara — A Down-East bark — Her captain and mate — A family arra?ige- 
ment — Arrival at Demarara — Discharge cargo — Sail for Buen Ayre, 

I PROCEEDED to my former abiding-place, the Sailor’s 
Home, where I enjoyed that night the sweetest sleep that 
had fallen to my experience for a long time. The following 
day we were paid off. I had a little over forty dollars due me. 
XI y first act was one which every sailor makes a primary con- 
sideration — namely, to fill up my old sea-chest with good warm 
clothes, in preparation for the inclement weather which was now 
to be encountered. 

Common opinion ascribes to the sailor a careless, joyous 
disposition. So far as my experience extends, it seems to me 
there as nothing farther from the truth. The man-of-war’s man, 
to be sure, is burdened with no cares, and he fills fully the idea 
formed of the genus by the shoresman. His jovial good nature 
borrows no trouble of the future. He is in a service where he 
can rely upon being properly taken care of. He has no 
occasion to take thought for the morrow. His labor is light, 
his pay sure and sufficient, and his responsibility as trifling as 
can be imagined. 


3H 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


Not SO with the merchant seaman. His voyages are 
shorter, and he is therefore oftener under the necessity of look- 
ing out for a new berth. His toil is severe, and many parts 
of his duty throw wearying responsibilities upon him. His pay 
is barely sufficient to afford him necessary clothing and defray 
his expenses during his periodical loitering on land. And he is 
no sooner on shore than he feels harassed by the necessity of 
hunting up a new ship. 

Withal, let him have as much foresight as ever falls to the 
share of a sailor, yet he cannot always choose such voyages 
as he would like most, or as would make his life easiest. In 
the majority' of cases, he is forced to take up with the first 
chance that offers. And very often, all precautions to the con- 
trary notwithstanding, he finds himself caught in winter 
weather upon a northern coast, and has before him a prospect 
of suffering which is enough to make the stoutest heart quail. 

So it was with me at this time. When I returned to 
Boston from London, I determined never again to be caught 
upon the American coast in the winter. Yet here I was now, 
the last of November already at hand, just come ashore from 
an India voyage, and poorly prepared to face the storm which 
lay between me and a more genial sky. 

I will not say that my heart failed me ; but I felt much 
troubled at the thoughts of another winter passage. 

“ The times in Boston were none too good. Although 
shipping was brisk, there were a great many seamen ashore, all 
anxious to ship themselves, and each looking out for a 
southern voyage. 


ANXIETY TO ESCAPE THE WINTER. 


315 


I had several offers to go to the Mediterranean. But, with 
the prospect of returning to the United States in the dead 
of winter, I would not go there. Some offers there were, too, 
of voyages to the West Indies, but with a similar drawback, 
of being gone about three months, and returning to the coast in 
February or March. 

I desired to escape the entire winter, and for this purpose it 
was necessary to go upon a voyage to last at least six months. 
But i>o vessel was just then fitting out upon such a trip ; or 
if there was, her crew was engaged several months beforehand, 
and all chances in her long ago filled up. 

I wandered about the shipping offices for more than a 
week, attempting to suit myself, but ineffectually. At last, on 
walking into an office one morning, a gentleman talking to the 
shipping-master, asked me if I would not go “ Down East.” 
“How far asked I. 

“To Bangor.” 

“Where is the vessel to go, from there.?” 

“ A fine voyage ; she goes to Demarara, thence to Buea 
Ay re, and returns to New Orleans with a cargo of salt.” 

“That will cheat the winter, my lad,” remarked the shipper, 
“She is the finest craft that ever sailed from Down East, 
and her captain and mate are gentlemen,” added the one who 
had first spoken. “You will have fine times.” 

I did not much like the idea of going to Bangor, where 
winter had already set in in full force ; but on considering 
that so fair-looking a chance might not offer again, I con- 
cluded to accept. 


3>6 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


On signifying as much to the shipper, he produced the 
shipping papers, and I signed my name to the articles of the 
good bark Swain, whereof John Cutter was master, “or who- 
ever -shall go master thereof,” to proceed on a voyage from 
Bangor to Georgetown, Demarara, thence to the island of Buen 
Ayre, and return to New Orleans. 

“ She’s a chartered vessel, my lad, so you may rely upon 
her going the voyage,” said the shipper, as I hesitated to write 
my name. 

This additional security decided me fully, and I promised to 
be ready to go to Bangor by that evening’s boat. 

It not unfrequently happens that vessels going to a port or 
on a voyage not liked by seamen, ship crews under false pre- 
tences — that is, the articles declare the ship to be going to one 
place, when she is going to another. For instance, I shipped 
once to go to New Orleans, when the captain knew full well 
that he was about to proceed direct to Mobile. So it 
happens in innumerable cases. It is, therefore, counted a priv- 
ilege when one can secure a berth in a vessel that is .chartered 
for the voyage, as there is then a tolerable certainty that all 
the conditions of the shipping agreement will be fulfilled. 

Before I left the shipping office, I obtained from the per- 
son who was so active in getting me to ship a full and par- 
ticular account of the vessel in which I was to go, and of her 
captain. 

The bark was said to be about three years old, in ex- 
cellent order, alow and aloft, did not leak a drop, and had a 
splendid fit out. 


A DOWN-EAST BARK. 


317 


As her outward cargo was to be lumber, I was particular 
to inquire as to her carrying a deck-load, but was assured that 
she would not. 

“ All her cargo is in the hold.” 

The captain was said to be a fine, good-natured Down- 
Easter, who would see that his crew were made comfortable. 

Of all this, of course, I hoisted in only a very moderate 
portion, leaving the balance as something to be “ told to the 
marines.” Yet I was glad to revel, if in imagination only, in 
the prospect of a comfortable ship and a good voyage. 

As our ship and voyage proved so decidedly the reverse of 
what was described to me, it may be well here to state, for the 
benefit of the uninitiated reader, that there are good vessels 
“Down East” — in Maine ^ — and that some of the finest men 
that ever walked a quarter-deck hail from there. 

I was the last man that shipped. The vessel was to carry 
six hands, three of whom, it was said, were already in Bangor, 
while the other three of us were going on by that evening’s 
steamer. I was so fortunate as to recognize in the other two 
old shipmates, and we three whiled away the passage by 
reminiscences of past times and plans for the future. 

Steaming all night, we awoke next morning in the Penob- 
scot River, and by noon arrived at Frankfort, a place about 
fifteen miles below Bangor. Here our conductor — who, by the 
way, was the express agent to whom we had been consigned, 
I suppo.se, as so many parcels, “ contents unknown” — was hailed, 
by a raw-boned Down-Easter, who proved to be our new 
captain. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 



He had brought his vessel down from Bangor, to prevent 
her being frozen up. We therefore got on shore with our 
baggage, and proceeded, with our worthy captain, to take a 
look at the ship. He pointed out to us her masts, as she lay, 
the outside vessel in a tier, and hastily giving us directions 
how to get on board, left us, to hunt up the balance of his 
men, being anxious to start out immediately. 

Leaving our baggage on the wharf, we proceeded on board 
to make a preliminary inspection of the craft. She proved to 
be a much older-looking vessel than she had been represented, 
and had on a deck-load at least ten feet high. So far, she was 
not at all satisfactory to us. 

One of my shipmates proposed to refuse to go in her. To 
this I objected ; I had signed the articles, had taken my month’s 
advance, and laid out a portion of it, and I now felt that I 
ought to stfck to my bargain at all hazards. 

My determination overruled the other two and we brought 
on board our chests and hammocks. 

Having procured from the second mate the key of the fore- 
castle, we proceeded to install ourselves in the dark hole which 
was to be for some time our home. I went below to receive 
the luggage. Striking a light, that I might see where to place 
our chests, I found it would be first necessary to remove on 
deck a mass of running rigging, studd’nsail gear, etc., which 
had been thrown down there for safe-keeping. 

After getting rid of this, I found the deck or floor cov- 
.ered with chips, sawdust, and ice, to the depth of several inches. 
,1 began, by this time, to wish that I had not come to Bangor. 


THE FORECASTLE. 


3>9 


But what was my astonishment when, on looking forward, 
toward what are called the breast-hooks, being the most for- 
ward portion of the bows, inside, I beheld there a solid mass 
of ice, which proved to be about three feet thick, and extended 
from the deck to the ceiling overhead, nearly five feet 
high. 

“ Send down your chests, boys,” shouted I, in desperation, 
fearinsf that if either of the others discovered the ice before 
their baggage came ’ down, they would utterly refuse to go in 
the vessel. 

I placed the chests as best I could upon the dirt and ice, 
flung the bedding into the berths, as it was handed down, then 
replaced the forecastle ladder, and invited my two friends to 
walk down and inspect the premises. With curses both loud 
and deep, they beheld the dirty and miserable hole which 
was to be our abode. 

In truth, I was myself somewhat staggered in my resolution 
of going in the vessel, as I examined more closely into the ac- 
commodations — or, it should be said, of lack of accommodations. 
But a little calm consideration convinced me that there was no 
other course open to me. 

We had received sixteen dollars, advance, with the under- 
standing that if we went to sea in the ship it would be due, 
but if we did not go, it would have to be refunded to the 
shipper by the people who had indorsed for us — the boarding- 
house keepers, namely. It would, therefore, have been a species 
of dishonesty, in us now to back out, especially as we were 

not prepared to return the money. 

% 


320 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 


Bill and Tom, my shipmates, spoke of immediately taking 
their effects out of the vessel. They would stand nothing of 
this kind. 

I had nothing to urge against this course, and contented 
myself with saying that I should feel bound to go in her, if 
she was to sink the first night out. After endeavoring in vain 
to shake my resolution, they at last concluded also to remain, 
“ as it would not do to leave an old shipmate in the lurch.” 

But we had not seen the worst even yet. I had simply 
thrown the bundles of bedding into the berths. When we began 
to spread out our beds, we found in the lower berths, instead 
of berth-boards, solid blocks of ice, two feet thick ; and upon 
one of these I spread out my bedding, and here slept, or tried 
to sleep, until the warm weather began to melt my resting- 
place. By that time my mattress was just fit to throw over- 
board, and for the balance of the voyage I either slept upon 
deck, wrapped up in a blanket, or made use of another’s bed. 

All this ice had come into the vessel in this wise : As 
before mentioned, she was lumber-loaded. The cargo had been 
taken in through a bow-port, which opened into the forecastle, 
just on a level with the waters edge. Thus the boards and 
joists composing the loading were run out of the water along- 
side, through our miserable habitation, into the hold, dripping all 
the way. The water froze wherever it fell, and the lumber-men 
no doubt threw more down on top of it, to make themselves a 

I 

convenient slide for the heavier pieces of wood. Thus the entire 
forecastle was full of ice. 

The presence of such a mass of frozen water, with the 


SHOR T-HANDED. 


321 


dampness arising from the wet lumber stowed in the hold, made 
staying below almost unbearable. Yet it was a little better 
than on deck, inasmuch as there was some shelter from the 
rough winds. 

.r 

When the captain came on board we demanded a stove. 
He granted us one, but neglected to tell us, until we had got 
some distance down the river, that there was no pipe on board 
for it. The stove, therefore, was of no use. It was altogether 
out of the question to keep warm, or even moderately com- 
fortable. Our only consolation was, that with a fair wind a 
few days would see us in warm weather. 

Our crew was to have numbered six; -but on looking for 
the remaining three, only one was forthcoming. The other two 
had changed their mind, and found it .more comfortable to 
remain on shore. 

“ Never mind them, lads,” said the captain ; “ I am going 
to come to at Thomaston, and there we can get two others 
without trouble.” ^ 

I had myself refused to go to sea short-handed, which drew 
from him this remark. 

Accordingly, we agreed to take the vessel to Thomaston, 
which lies at the mouth of the Penobscot. We came to anchor 
at some distance from the land, took the captain ashore, and 
returned on board. He was to come off next morning, and 
promised faithfully to bring off two additional men. 

Next morning came, and so did our captain — but no men. 
He talked very fairly, however; said he could find no one 
that would consent to go with him — they knew his character 


322 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


too well, probably, as this was his native town — that he was 
willing to help, and would see that the mates did their share; 
and that when we once got into warm weather we would get 
along finely. 

. Sailors are easily won over by fair words, and it ' did not 
require much persuasion to make us get underweigh and put 
out to sea. The mate promised to hunt up the missing stove- 
pipe when we got clear of the land ; and with the hope of 
having a fire in our miserable forecastle, we worked cheerfully. 
For my part, I was careless of present suffering, while there 
was a prospect of running into warm weather, and was eager 
to be underweigh, decreasing the distance between ourselves 
and the West Indies. 

We set sail with a stiff north-wester, before which the 
old craft rolled off to the southward at no slow rate. When 
watches were chosen, I was put with the second mate's, and 
found my watchmate to be the young man who had come 
on board at Frankfort — a fellow who was now making his 
first voyage to sea. He could not furl a royal, could not 
steer, did not even know how to pull on a rope properly. 

Such a fellow was worse than useless on board an under- 
manned vessel like ours. Of course he was not to be trusted 
to steer the bark in a breeze such as now favored us. Mv 
first trick at the wheel lasted four hours. And for many suc- 
ceeding days and nights I was • forced to steer my entire 
watch on deck, while the ship was running before a stiff 
gale. 

But it was as well to be at the wheel as at the pumps, 


SUFFERINGS OF THE CREW. 


which was now the alternative. The wretched old craft had 
sprung a leak, the heavy deck-load straining her timbers. This 
leak was not very serious, but unfortunately both of our 
pumps were out of order, and the water threatened to stand 
five or six feet deep in the hold before we could get them to 
work. After trying in vain to make use of them, we hauled one 
pump on deck, and with a great deal of trouble and hard 
labor repaired it. 

Happily this one remained in tolerable order. Had it not, 
we should have become water-logged in a short time, as the 
other pump, while being hauled up for the purpose of making 
repairs upon it, was thrown violently against the mainmast, by 
a heavy lurch of the ship, and so much injured as to make it 
entirely useless. 

In stowing the deck-load, no regard had been paid to 
future convenience. The space about the pumps was so much 
crowded, that pumping was made doubly laborious. We would 
work there all night, and after breakfast next morning all 
hands would turn to, and by dint of the severest labor free 
her of water by perhaps ten o’clock, when the watch below 
were permitted to take their needed rest. The entire afternoon 
watch was in like manner spent at the pumps, and by sun- 
set we were tired and worn out, and but ill prepared for 
another night’s suffering, in wet and bitter cold. 

The bark was so deeply laden that the seas broke even 
over her deck-load, and kept us continually wet. And worse 
yet, the usual shelter from wind and sea, afforded by a ship’s 
bulwarks we were here entirely deprived of. Perched high in 


324 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


mid-air, on top of the deck-load, the biting north-west wind 
blew through our wet clothes, and threatened to congeal the 
very marrow in our bones. 

This state of things happily lasted only twelve days. These 
days seemed of an almost interminable length. There was no 
possibility of resting on deck, and a four hours’ trick at the 
wheel wonderfully lengthens a watch, in the imagination of the 
poor victim, as any one who has experienced it will readily 
grant. 

Below, I could not sleep. There was a chilling and damp 
air in the forecastle, caused by the great lumps of ice with 
which it was still incumbered, and by the wet lumber in the 
foold, which made the stay below, if possible, worse than the 
watch on deck. I still had my hammock and bedding spread 
upon the mass of ice which half filled the berth. Here I 
tumbled about during my watch below, vainly endeavoring to 
sleep, and annoying my watchmate by constant grumbling. For 
the first three nights out I was not conscious of having slept at 
all. After that, tired nature succumbed, and I was able to 
sleep, but in great misery. 

Our living, meanwhile, was not of the best. Happily we 
had an excellent cook, who lost no opportunity to provide 
something good for us. But the captain and his brother, the 
mate, kept a sharp eye upon the provision locker, and took 
care that “ the sailors should not live too well.” 

It was not until we got to sea that we became aware 
of the fact that the vessel was a “ family concern.” The 
captain and mate were brothers, and they had with them a 








i 

I 

! 


A FAMILY ARRANGEMENT. 


325 


lad, another brother, who was now making his first voyage, pre- 
paratory to taking the berth of second mate, when he grew 
some years older and stouter. This lad was “ in everybody’s 
mess and nobody’s watch.” He lived in the cabin, of course, 
but spent most of his time in the cook’s galley, finding that 

the most comfortable place on board during the cold weather. 

The mate made several attempts to set “ Bob” as a spy 
upon the men and the cook, but the youngster despised the 
meanness, and as he invariably vtold us of the mate’s designs, 
his worthy brother was forced to do his own spying. 

No ship is dreaded so much as one the officers of which 

are relatives. Jack knows that in such vessels the work is 

always harder and the treatment worse than in any other. 
Had I known that our chief officers were brothers, I should 
not have gone in the vessel under any considerations. It was 
a source of continual trouble and difficulty to us. With a 
captain who was a knave and a mate who was in everything, 
his subservient tool, we could expect no peace. Happily, 
“ Bob,” the younger brother, was an impracticable, and for 
very mischief ranged himself on the side of “ the men.” 

The vessel was a remarkably dull sailer, and, like all such, 

% 

she steered badly, A fast-sailing ship almost invariably steers 
well, while a slow-going old tub can scarcely be kept within 
three points of her course. 

From what I have said of our condition, on deck and 
below, it may be imagined that we wished for nothing so much 
as warmer weather. I had thought that three or four days of. 
such a breeze as we were favored with would bring us into 


326 THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 

a milder atmosphere. But it was full a fortnight before we 
could take off our jackets or before the lumps of ice in the 
forecastle showed, by their dripping, that we had reached a 
more temperate clime. 

Words cannot describe how grateful to us felt the warm 
beams of the summer sun, how delightful looked the first dry 
spot upon the deck, and with what joy we viewed the steam 
arising from the wet planks, an evidence of the sun’s power. 
One needs to suffer all the miseries which had fallen to our 
share since leaving Frankfort to appreciate the feelings with 
which relief from them is hailed. 

As soon as the weather was sufficiently moderate to allow 
of such a thing, we took axes into the forecastle, and chopped 
to pieces the ice still remaining there, as the speediest means 
of ridding ourselves of it. My mattress was thrown overboard, 
as was that of another. The remainder of my bedding — that 
is, the blankets — had nearly followed, but a thorough washing 
and drying preserved them. 

The sailor, of course, does not incumber himself with sheets 
and pillows. His couch is composed generally of a straw bed 
and two or three thick blankets. His pea-jacket serves him for 
a pillow, and if he desires to sleep with his head high, he 
places his sea-boots under the jacket. At sea he rolls into his 
berth, at the expiration of his watch on deck, without divest- 
ing himself of aught except his huge overcoat, and his knife, 
and belt, and shoes. Thus he is prepared to “ turn out” at a 
moment’s notice — a thing he has frequent occasion to do. 

All the scrubbing we could give our miserable forecastle 







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DEMARARA. 


327 


would not make it habitable. When we got into warm weather, 
the vapors arising from the lumber in the hold filled every- 
thing with mould. Our clothes were rotting with moisture, 

O’ 

which penetrated our chests. Matches kept below could not 
be struck. On every fine day we were obliged to take our 
effects upon deck, to keep all from spoiling. Yet we had to 
sleep in this noisome hole, for on deck there was no place fit 
to rest ; and besides, had we slept upon deck, there was a 
strong probability that we would be called to give a pull every 
time a brace or halyai'd was to be stirred. 

Much ice had been taken in with the lumber, and when it 
now began to grow warm, this melted, and kept us steadily at 
the pumps for an entire week, to free her of the accumula- 
tion of water. By the time this was done, we were in settled 
weather, running down the north-east trades, and each day 
diminishing the distance between us and our first port. 

When we were no longer busied at the pumps, we found 
sufficient to do about the rigging and sails. The bark was old, 
and was, besides, so meanly kept, that -her top hamper and 
sails were a vast patch-work. Almost every day something 
was giving way, and then, make a splice, or patch it up in 
some way, was the word. Anything to prevent actual ex- 
penditure. By dint of continual labor, however, we had her 
in tolerable condition by the time we got to Demarara. 

It was on the thirty-second day out that we made the 
land. We had been already for two days sailing over the im- 
mense flats which extend to a distance of more than a hun- 
dred miles seaward from this part of the South American coast. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL, 



On these flats the water is nowhere more than ten fathoms 
(sixty feet) deep, although the land is entirely out of sight, 
and one is as much at sea as anywhere among the West 
India Islands. 

We had been steering half a dozen different courses 
during the day (it was a Sabbath), to oppose the various 
currents which set here along shore, and change their 
direction with the varying shapes of the land. The labor of 
bending cables, getting the anchors off the bows, and making 
ready for entering port, which in most ships would have been 
done on the preceding Saturday, had been carefully preserved 
for a Sabbath afternoon’s work. We were yet busied about 
the anchor, when the captain, who was at the masthead with 

a spy-glass, raised the land. 

The coast here is remarkably low and marshy, and visible 
at but little distance. We were only eight miles from the 
nearest point, when the captain first saw it. We immediately 
shaped our course for the rivers mouth, and by dark were so 
fortunate as to receive on board a pilot, a black fellow, 

dressed in most approved white duck, but barefooted. Under 
his guidance the vessel was taken to the entrance of the 

river, and there anchored, just outside of the bar, which we 
could only pass at high water. At sunrise, when the tide per- 
mitted, we sailed up the river, abreast of the town, and by 
night were lying alongside of a convenient wharf or pier. 

Georgetown, or Stabrok, which last is its Dutch name, is 

the capital and chief city of British Guiana. It lies at 
the mouth of the river Demararj^ and on its east bank. It is 


MADEIRA. 




( 


f 







THE TOWN AND COLONY. 


a regularly laid-out town. Lying upon a marshy piece of 

ground, most of the streets are intersected by canals, crossed 
by means of bridges. It was founded by the Dutch, to whom 
this peculiarity is owing. Many of the houses are finely built, 
and most of the priv^ate dwellings are surrounded by fine 
gardens. 

The merchants who occupy the water-side have introduced 
here all the labor-saving improvements for which Englishmen 
are noted. Little railways run from nearly every warehouse, 
down the long piers to the vessels, to facilitate the movement 
of the huge hogsheads of sugar, rum, and molasses, which form 
the staple exports of the colony. These, with enormous cranes 
for hoisting and lowering, ease greatly the labors of the seamen 
in getting on board the cargoes. There is also a line of railway 
running into the heart of the sugar country, some one hundred 

t 

and twenty-five miles, on which is transported that part of the 

produce which does not find its way down the river in lighters. 

» 

The principal inhabitants are English. The mL)St numerous 
are the negroes, an idle and doless race as ever was seen, but 
who live in this mild climate a happy, if useless existence. 
Those of them who live in the towns wander about the 
wharves, taking occasionally a day’s work when they need an 
article of clothing, but otherwise utterly idle, and lost in vice. 
Of course there are some worthy exceptions, but such is their 
general condition. Fruits of all kinds are cheap, and the 
climate and soil are so favorable that they can raise the little 
they need with the smallest possible amount of work. And as 
a class they seem to have but little ambition. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 




00 


2 


As the negroes will not work, the colonial government 
imports laborers. Some of these are Portuguese, brought from 
the Island of Madeira and the Canaries. But the greater 
portion are Hindoos. These wretched people are induced to 
apprentice themselves for a period of seven years. They are 
brought by shiploads, annually, from their native plains to 
this sickly country, and after suffering all the horrors of a 
one hundred days’ passage, huddled together in a crowded hold, 
are on their arrival sent out to the plantations, where not a few 
of them die from the exposure and severe toil, to which they 
are but little used in their own country. 

If their own tales may be believed, they are none too well 
treated. The lash and cowhide are not unknown, and they are 
driven about more like cattle than human beings. Certain it is 
that not a few of them, unable to support their misery, commit 
suicide, and many run away into the wild woods, where they 
probably perish of hunger and exposure. 

From inquiries made among some of the most intelligent 
that I met with, I learned that they considered the chances of 
ever getting back to their homes as being very small. Their 
wages are from two to five dollars per month, and out of 
this they have to furnish themselves clothing. Thus compara- 
tively few of them are ever able to get together a sufficient 
sum to carry them back — although they set out from home 
'■'with glowing hopes of returning, at the expiration of their 
apprenticeship, in better circumstances. 

But few of the Hindoos are found in the town. Here 
the Portuguese perform most of the manual labor. They are a 





THE MIRITA PALM 

















DISCHARGING CARGO. 


335 


turbulent set, and hard to manage. They form a separate 
body, and have regulations among themselves, to which each 
one is forced to submit. They enjoy a much larger share of 

9 

liberty than the poor Hindoos, being not apprentices, but 

emigrants. I was told by some of them, that they frequently 
amass a considerable sum of money — five or six hundred 

dollars being thought quite a fortune — and return to their 

native isles, where, on this amount, they can live in comfort 
the balance of their days. 

On the whole, I should consider Demarara a very undesira- 
ble place for a permanent residence. Its marshy situation makes 
it very sickly. The yellow fever prevails all the year round, and 
in summer sometimes with great violence. Centipedes, scorpions, 
lizards, and snakes exist in tropical abundance ; and mosquitoes 
darken the air with their swarms, and nearly hide the light of 
the sun. It is almost impossible for a European to exist with- 
out mosquito-bars, after nightfall. 

On the next day after our arrival, we began to discharge 
the cargo. I here practically tested the efficacy of strict 
abstinence from ardent spirits, in working under a tropical sun. 
The heat was intense ; in fact, I think I never felt a more 
powerful sun. In discharging the lumber, it was necessary for 
two men to work upon deck, while the second mate, with 
the other two, and a couple of negroes (when these could be 
gotten) shoved the planks up out of the hold. 

I was offered a place in the hold, where there was com- 
plete protection from the sun ; but as my shipmates were less 
used to the tropics than myself, I preferred to take my place 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


336 

on deck. All the rest drank more or less of rum, the pre- 
vailing liquor here. I was warned that, unless I also imbibed 
to some extent, I should be taken sick. But I had always 
before, when placed in similar circumstances, adhered to fresh 

t 

water, and determined, although the work bade fare to prove 
more exhausting than I had before experienced, to stick to 
temperance. And I found that, although I worked in the 
sun, while my companions had a constant shade, I held out 
much better than they, feeling fresh and lively when they 
complained bitterly of exhaustion. 


I 



CHAPTER XXL 

» 

The Dragon s Mouth — Buen Ayre — Taking in salt — The salt pans — Beauty of the 
island and the climate — Misery of the laborers — Off for New Orleans — Captam 

c * 

attempts to starve the crew — Tedious passage — Arrival at New Orleans — A 
sailor s lawsuit — Sail for New York — Conclusion. 

O UR stay in Georgetown was only two weeks long. The 
last plank was put ashore on a Monday, and next day 
we took in a little sand ballast, in addition to that we had 
already in, and set sail for the Island of Buen Ayre, where 
we were to procure . our cargo of salt. 

Our passage thither would have been, in any other vessel, 
a pleasure trip. We were six days underweigh, sailing along 
all the while with soft and light breezes, now on one quarter, 
now on the other, as we changed our course, in rounding the 
various islands which lay on our way. 

On the second day out we sailed through a beautiful 
basin, called the Dragon’s Mouth, which forms the passage 
between the British Island of Trinidad and the Peninsula of 
Paria, the last a portion of .the mainland of South America. 
It is interspersed with numerous islets, \yhich I suppose some 
poetical , sailor has transformed into the dragon’s teeth, in 

.. J 

allusion to the dangers encountered by the mariner who 
threads his way among them. 


/ 


338 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


Before we left Georgetown, we had spoken to the captain 
about laying in some necessary provisions, which he promised 
to do ; but he neglected the matter — purposely or through 
drunkenness — and we were no sooner out of sight of land 
•than the mate informed the cook that a very short allowance 
of beef, and no pork, with a sparing use of bread, was 
necessary to bring us safely to Buen Ayre. Hard work all 
day, with short allowance of victuals, soon wears men down, 
and we consequently grew careless at night, preferring sleep to 
the necessary lookout. Our captain had not yet gotten 
sufficiently over his late spree to keep a very correct reckon- 
ing. In consequence, on the third night out, all hands were 
called, in a hurry, to tack ship off shore. Coming on deck, 
we found the vessel in close proximity to land. Fifteen 
minutes longer on her prescribed course would have set her 
ashore. We were heartily sorry that the old tub had not 
struck, as it would have released us from our unpleasant 
situation. But, as the breeze was gentle, she was easily worked 
off shore. On the sixth day we reached Buen Ayre, without 
meeting with any farther noteworthy accident on our way. 

Buen Ayre, or Bon Ayre as it is more generally called, at 
least by seamen, is a beautiful little islet lying off the coast 
of Venezuela, and a few hours’ sail east of the more important 
Island of Cura^oa. It is about twenty miles in length, the 
average breadth not being more than four miles. It is inter- 
sected by a mountain range, of no great height, however. 
Lying in the track of the north-east trade winds, it has a most 
charming climate. The brilliant sky, pure and bracing air, and 



NEGRESSES OF GUIANA 




BUEN A FEE. 


341 


the clear and beautiful waters of the sea which surrounds it, all 
combine to inspire one with new energies, and present a scene 
of natural beauty which is unsurpassed in my experience. 

The principal article of export (at least to the United 
States) is salt. The island belongs to the crown of Holland. I 
understood that the salt pans, together with the slaves who 
work them, who are also the property of the crown, are farmed 
out for a term of years to the highest bidder, thus being, in fact, 
worked by private capital and enterprise. 

The other most valuable product of the island is coch- 
ineal. There are plantations of considerable extent on the plains 
inland, where the bugs, which when properly roasted and pul- 
verized form the valuable cochineal of commerce, are carefully 
tended by slaves. The little animals feed upon the leaves of 
small trees, and are shaken down at regular periods into sheets 
held below, then prepared and sent to Holland, where they 
finally come into the regular line of commerce. 

The Dutch are proverbially hard masters. I could scarcely 
believe that human beings could so badly use their fellow- 
creatures, as the overseers of the salt-works here treat the 
poor slaves, who are “ in the contract.” 

The tanks, or pans, occupy a portion of the flat beach, 
nearly a mile in extent. They are square shallow excavations 
in the ground, their bottom lying below the surface of the 
sea. Each large pan communicates with the water by a trough 
or pipe, which, being opened, it flows in until it finds its level. 
It is then shut off, and the evaporation begins. The salt forms 
in beautiful crystals, first along the sides, and, as the water gets 


342 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


lower, along the bottom. When a pan is ready for working,, 
the slaves are turned in, and gather the salt into sacks, which 
they transport on their backs to a convenient place near shore, 
where it is piled until quite a little mountain is built up. 
This glistens in the bright sunlight like an immense diamond. 

We came to anchor at about a quarter of a mile from the 
beach, with the open sea behind us. There is no danger of 

a storm, and but little surf — this being the lee side — and conse- 
quently the anchorage is considered very good. The isle has 
but one small harbor, which is not used by ships coming 
hither for salt. Immediately ahead of us, on the shore, lay a 
salt hill, as high as Qur masthead, part of which was to be our 
cargo. The first thing to be done was to take out ballast. This 
lasted three days. It was dumped overboard alongside, we 
slacking out cable, once in awhile, in order that the boulders 
and sand should not fall all in one place, and make an in- 
convenient little shoal. 

The ballast out and the hold swept clean, the salt came 

alongside. It was brought from shore in large surf-boats,, 
by the slaves. When a boat came alongside, the bags were 

thrown upon a stage, from the stage to the deck, then a toss 
to the main-hatchway, where stood one with a jack-knife, to cut 
the string, empty the contents into the hold, and fling the 
sack back into the boat. In this way we speedily got in as 
much as the bark would carry. The worst of the labor was the 
trimming, in the hold, and the carrying sacks forward and aft 
to the hatches, there to be emptied. Working among salt is 
apt to produce sores upon the body. We had been warned 


VILLAGE IN GUIANA. 





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MISERY OF THE STAFFS. 


345 


that it was necessary to bathe at least once a day, and to put 
on clean clothing at the conclusion of the day’s work. Those 
of us who acted up to these rules were not troubled with 
salt boils; but the second mate, who was an Englishman, and 
had all a British sailor’s aversion to water in any shape, 
thought it too much trouble. He was punished for his heed- 
lessness by the appearance of numerous painful swellings on 
'different portions of his body. 

The salt intended for our ship was measured into sacks, 
each holding a bushel. In these sacks it was carried on the 
shoulders of men and women, from the depository to the 
beach, where each in turn laid his or her load into the boat, 
brought up beyond the reach of the surf for that purpose. 
When a boat was laden, all hands took hold and ran her into 
the water, when her regular crew hauled her alongside. A 
white overseer superintended the operations of the shore gang. 
He carried a long and heavy rawhide whip, which he applied 
with no sparing or light hand to the naked backs of women 
and men, if they did not trot off fast enough with their heavy 
burdens. 

The slaves work from six to six (which is here from day- 
light to dark), having an intermission of two hours, from 
twelve till two, wherein to eat the only meal they get during 
the day. The state of semi-starvation in which these poor creat- 
ures are kept is cruel in the extreme. The daily allowance 
of food to each working person is one quart of ^mground corn, 
and nothing besides. This allowance I saw measured out to 
■them myself, ere I could believe that any one could be so 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


346 

niggardly as to force working men and women to exist on such, 
a mere pittance. When their day’s work is finished they re- 
tire to their camp, where for full an hour they are engaged im 
pounding their corn in rude stone mortars, to reduce it to the: 
consistence of very coarse meal. This is the work of the 
women. The men, meanvvhile, gather a small quantity of wood, 
and when ready the meal is mixed with water, and boiled in 
a pot provided for the purpose, until it is a quite solid mass.. 
This mess is the next day’s allowance. Part of it is swallowed' 
on rising in the morning, the balance at noon. Supper they’ 
dare not indulge in, as their portion would not hold out. 

Of course, they know not what it is to have enough tO' 
eat. They are actually famished. Parties of them used to fight 
for the leavings of our cabin table, and fish-bones, potato-peel- 
ings, slop of all kinds, were voraciously devoured by them. 
Poor souls, they lost no occasion to steal victuals that happened 
“to be unwatched, and some of them were .always prowling 
about the galley, looking for a prize. We often connived at 
their thefts ; but our stingy captain was ever upon the watch 
to catch them in the act. He saw a poor fellow making off 

with a small piece of beef one day, and catching him, called 

the overseer, who happened to be on board. The wretched 
slave was at once ordered to lie down on deck. A ragged shirt, 
was first stripped off his back, and then, with a heavy rope’s- 

end, he received fifty lashes. So pleased was our skipper at 

witnessing the flogging, of which he was the occasion, that in. 
a fit of liberality, which I am sure he regretted the next moment,, 
he made his victim a present of the beef. 


ATTEMPT TO STARVE THE CREW. 


347 


The slaves are allowed by the king, their owner, two suits 
— shirts and trousers for the men, and gowns for the females — 
per annum, but no hat to keep off the sun, no shoes to pro- 
tect the feet while carrying their loads over the sharp coral of 
the beach. When a woman has a child, she is allowed three 
months to nurse and take care of it. At the expiration of 
that time, the little one is consigned to the care of other,, 
larger children, while the mother goes to work in the gang,, 
and is expected to do as hard a daj’s work as any of the rest. 

We left for New Orleans at the -end of ten days, that space 
of time having sufficed to take on board our cargo of salt. 
The captain had neglected to take in a supply of fresh water' 
at Demarara — where he would have had to pay for it. When 
we came here, we found the water so brackish that it made 
us sick to drink it. Yet we took on board two casks of it, 
which cost two dollars. One cask of good water lasted us ten 
days of the thirty occupied by our passage to New Orleans. 
Then we were reduced to drinking that last obtained. 

No sooner had we left port than our miserable life re- 
commenced. Once fairly clear of the land, the captain informed 
all hands that there was naught left of our supply of provi- 
sions except some rice, a moderate quantity of bread, and beef. 
On this, with a weekly meal of duff, we were expected to 
subsist to the end of the voyage. The vessel was a dull sailer 
under any circumstances ; but deeply laden with salt, she pos- 
itively did not seem to go ahead at all. Three or four knots 
per hour was her highest speed. Happily she did not leak 
sufficient to give us trouble with the' pumps. 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


.348 

Our mate, who had never before been in a “ square-rigger,” 
had been told in Demarara, by some of his acquaintance, that, 
in such vessels, it was indispensable to the dignity of the offi- 
cers to keep the men constantly at work. 

“ The worse you treat them, the smarter officer you will be.” 

This advice he now put in practice. There was but little 
necessary work to be done, as on the outward passage we had 
succeeded in patching the rigging and sails wherever they 
needed it. So the poor fellow was kept studying, night and 

day, what he should set “ the men” at ne.xt. Before we were 

ten days out he was completely at the end of his limited stock 
of sailorship ; and, as he had not sufficient Yankee ingenuity to 
make a spunyarn winch, all hands were kept up to braid sin- 
net* To have kept the watch on deck busy at this would 
have been not unusual ; but to keep up all hands for such 

work, and that, too, when we were short of provisions, was too 

bad. We remonstrated, but to no purpose. The captain merely 
asked if vve refused to obey orders. By rashly doing so, we 
should have forfeited our wages, which would have pleased him 
but too well, and benefited us naught, as we should have had 
to work the vessel into port, at any rate. So we submitted. 
But by way of satisfaction for this outrage on our priv- 
ileges, we used to throw overboard every night the product of 
'Our day’s labor, and the mate would sapiently “ wonder ” what 
had become of all the sinnet. 


* Sinnet is a small line, braided from rope-yarns, from the minute strands of which a rope is 
•formed. 


STREET IN NEW ORLEANS. 


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THE SAILOR'S DISLIKE OF THE CO URT-Ruu.,i . 


Shortly after we left Buen Ayre, our supply of coffee was 
•consumed, and thenceforth we were compelled to drink an in- 
fusion of burnt beans. Compelled to drink this, because the 
water we obtained at the salt-works was so brackish that it 
was impossible to swallow it without it having been previously 
• cooked. The stomach even of a sailor would not retain it ; 
-and several times, when we had grown thirsty at some hard 
work, and were tempted to lave our thirst from the water- 
cask, all hands were made sick, having to vomit up the mis- 
erable stuff. 

Thus, with salt water, mouldy biscuits, a small portion of 
rice, and beef, we lingered out a long passage of thirty days. 
And before we reached port even this wretched food grew very 
scarce, and our allowance of bread was reduced. We could not do 
aupfht to extricate ourselves from our difficulties. To have forced 
the captain to run into a port by the way would have been 
rank mutiny. To refuse duty would not have bettered matters. 
We were, therefore, compelled to suffer. But we determined that 
if there was a law on our side, we would test it when we 
got to New Orleans. 

Sailors dislike to go to law. They have a dread of “ land- 
sharks,” and will suffer almost anything rather than place them- 
selves in their hands. But we thought it a duty to show this 
man, and others of his kind, that they could be held up to 
justice, and therefore determined to risk all the unknown dan- 
gers of a court-room, to teach him a lesson. 

Arrived at New Orleans, we sought out a lawyer of some 
-eminence in cases of this kind, who took the matter in hand 


352 


THE MERCHANT VESSEL. 


for us. His conditions were, the payment of a fee of ten dollars,, 
in hand, from each man, and half the proceeds of the suit. 
We were detained in the city for six long weeks, by various 
pretexts of the captain’s counsel. In this time the wages of 
our voyage were spent, and my shipmates were all in debt to 
the full amount of their advance-money, and all that they 
could hope to obtain from the suit. • Finally this was decided. 
The captain was found guilty of gross misconduct, and sen- 
tenced to pay fifty dollars to each of the crew, and the ex- 
penses of the suit. This, to so niggardly a man as he, was a 
severe blow, and in so far was satisfactory to us, who desired 
to see him punished. But we too were sufferers by the suit. 
We had been compelled to remain six weeks idle. In this 
time the best season for shipping in New Orleans had passed 
away ; we had been forced to spend more than the proceeds of 
the voyage to keep us ashore, and had now some difficulty in 
getting a ship. All to satisfy justice. I will not set down here 
the many disrespectful remarks of my shipmates concerning, the 
blind Dame. Suffice it to say, that we departed from the court- 
room fully determined never again to appeal to her, but rather 
to take the law into our own hands. 

The day after the determination of the suit, I shipped on 
board a New York packet, and in a very quiet passage of 
twenty days reached New York. Here I took my chest and 
hammock to the Sailors’ Home, sent to Boston for a little 
money I had still on deposit there, got myself a new fit out,, 
and after staying ashore until tired of an inactive life, began 
my search for a voyage. This search, in which, having yet a 


ENGAGE ON A WHALESHIF 


353 


considerable sum of money in my purse, I was rather hard to 
please, ended in an engagement on board a New Bedford whale- 
ship. At this period, therefore, legitimately closes my experience 
of a merchant seaman’s life. 


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